#I didn’t really ship jayrose too much before

[betterthanbatman1]

Umm I love them???

[forlornmelody]

Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse, 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note:  Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy? 

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?” 

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her. 

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice. 

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb. 

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat. 

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning. 

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances. 

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. 

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then. 

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah? 

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder. 

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while. 

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach. 

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short. 

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly. 

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin. 

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door. 

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move.  “Right, sorry.” 

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive. 

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

 Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming. 

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.” 

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

 Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle. 

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it. 

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead. 

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously. 

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair. 

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”

[forlornmelody]

Three Robins Rose Has Kissed And The One Who Kissed Back

Rating: Explicit (there’s smut, and lots of swearing, and some implied drug use.)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: JayRose (Jason Todd/Rose Wilson)

AO3 Link: Here

Summary: Rose Wilson has a type and it is former protégés of Batman.

Note:  For the sake of this story, I'm assuming both the events of the Crisis continuity, and the New 52, happened. (But we're just gonna pretend DC didn't nerf Rose for daddy-fodder, kay? Kay.)

-*-*-

“Rose.” Nightwing stares down at her, narrowing his eyes, but his grin betrays him. “Something tells me you’re doing this on purpose.”

“What makes you say that?” The mat presses up against Rose’s back.

“That’s the third time today I’ve swept you off your feet.” Dick’s got her in a full nelson, one of his escrima sticks pointed at her throat. He’s not actually going to bust her, though. Nightwing, the former Boy Wonder, is too good for that sort of thing. It frustrates her to no end. 

“Maybe I need more practice.” Rose can’t help the playful lilt creeping into her voice. The blue and black look good on him--better because they hug his body in all the right places. All she has to do is tilt her hips--there. One flip and Rose leans over him, pressing both his wrists against the mat. 

“You? You’re better than this.” Somehow it sounds like Dick is commenting on more than her training room flirting tactics, and the smile slips from her face. Like he hasn’t hit on half his opponents already. Hypocrite. She’ll show him. 

Time slows as Rose closes in, so close she can hear Dick’s heart speeding up. Just as her lips are about to brush against his--Dick turns his head and her kiss lands on his cheek. “Oh come on.” Just like that--Dick’s on his feet, launching Rose off him.

“Focus, Rose.” 

Their sparring session continues, and Dick never once brings up the kiss. He drives her crazy, in more ways than one, but she seems to have him off-balance for now. Rose presses her advantage, and she pins Dick face-first against the Robin costume on display. Freezing, Dick sucks in a breath. Before Rose can ask what’s wrong, he shoves his elbow into her sternum, pushing her away. 

“Dick?” 

“Not now.” He doesn’t even look at her as he slams the door behind him. 

What’s his hang-up with his old costume, anyway? 

-----

Rose’s only on this team because of Dick, because even though he doesn’t lead the Titans anymore, what he says goes. Even when the Titans hate his decision. Even when they hate their newest member with a passion. Even though she tried to kill them before. 

But Rose knows more than just martial arts. And she knows just how to get under Tim’s skin. Or on top of it, rather. 

Click. Tim’s got her pressed face-first against the mattress and her hands cuffed behind her back. Somehow Rose suspects this isn’t a bondage thing. Too bad. She really liked the feel of Tim’s lips against hers. 

“Hot damn.” Eddie stares at them through the open door and Rose can literally see steam coming out of his ears. That might be normal for him. Rose hasn’t been paying attention, at least not before now. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Tim says quickly.

“Yes it is,” Rose says even quicker. Sometimes Rose’s visions don’t help much. People’s choices determine the future and people can be oh so finicky. It drives her nuts. Fights are one thing--people either want to kill her or they don’t--the rest they have ingrained through practice or the lack thereof. Knowing whether someone wanted to get in her pants--well. Apparently, she hasn’t quite figured that one out. 

Tim pulls her cuffs off, extracting himself from the bed and putting some distance between them. “Put some clothes on.” Damn. She’s 0-2.

But with the way Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she slides her armor on? Maybe it’s not a total loss. 

----

First Stephanie giggles, and Rose can hear it echo across Gotham’s rooftops. “What are you doing?” Then her smile slips, and the silence is deafening. 

Rose leans in closer, both their asses teetering on the edge. “You and Tim are on a break, right?” Her lips part, and she can smell the lavender in Spoiler’s shampoo. Their breaths intermingle and she’s so close to--

“Rose, I’m straight.”

“Seriously??”

----

Honestly, Rose had given up trying at this point. Jason Todd--Gotham’s best, or perhaps worst bad boy--should have been an easy target. Except he wasn’t Rose’s target, not this time. Her employer wanted Roy Harper out of the picture--Jason was just in her way. And he rarely left his best friend out of his sight. And Rose thought Koriand’r would’ve been more of a problem. And with her out of town--possibly out of planet--this should have been a piece of cake. Just get off The Red Hood’s radar by getting into his pants. How hard could it be?

Way harder than Rose ever imagined. 

But the price on Roy’s head? Too high to pass up. With that kind of money, Rose would be set for life. No more relying on her dear dad to help with bills every so often. Or his car. Or his safehouses. She could even get her brother the care and protection money to keep him away from all those bent government agencies and mad scientists who wanted to dissect his brain, or worse, use him for their own ends. 

So, Rose stayed. Even after Jason turned her down, more than once. 

The first time, it’s on a mission in Hong Kong, where Rose just so happens to be going after the same target. The Jade Dragon--Kingpin and Slum Lord who owned half the Indian Ocean. Roy waits for them on the roof with their getaway ride, and Rose joins Jason in the elevator. Halfway up it just so happens to stall. She really outdoes herself. 

Jason’s blue eyes stare not at her, but at the emergency hatch. The back-up lights cast a soft glow on his skin as Rose closes in. “It’s probably a power failure. No way they don’t have backup generators in this place.”

“Yeah. But they don’t run the elevator when the power goes out--in case of a fire.”

Jason swears under his breath, eyeballing the distance from his feet to the ceiling. “So what. We’ve got about ten, maybe twenty minutes before they fix it?”

“Something like that.” Rose touches his shoulder. “Relax. Where’s your slumlord going to go? The roof?” The stairs don’t go to his penthouse. She checked. Something about a security risk. Rich wackos like him like to be airlifted out in case of emergency. 

Pressing his lips together, Jason lets out the breath he’s being holding for two minutes. “You’re right.” He slumps against the back of the elevator, staring at buttons like they’ve personally wronged him. “I just hate waiting.”

Rose slouches next to him, not quite touching him, but close enough to where they can feel each other’s heat. “I know how we can pass the time.”

Jason blinks, finally giving Rose more than a passing glance. “...You’re kidding, right?” He laughs softly, and it’s the softest she’s ever seen his expression. “We just met.”

The batkid who got hired for jacking the Batmobile’s hubcaps, who had a reputation of going just a little too far when beating up bad guys, who actually killed more than one villain who got under his skin. Jason Todd--the guy on ten international watch lists--a prude. Who knew? 

----

Except Jason isn’t really a prude, now is he? Nah. Rose’s caught him stealing glances at Kori more than once--always looking the other way when Kori’s boytoy Roy stands nearby. Hell, the way Jason and Roy fool around sometimes—Rose’s not completely convinced of the joke. She’s even found some saucy text messages in his phone, and more than one picture of a gorgeous flight attendant. An old flame--Rose guesses. 

But he doesn’t spare her a second glance. 

And it’s not like Rose doesn’t know what she’s doing. Infiltration isn’t her favorite--she’d much rather blow up The Starfire with a heavy payload. Simple. Quick. A big, beautiful explosion to light some fire in her eyes. But the fucking employer wants Roy’s head as proof. Says he and his friends tend to walk away from this sort of thing. Her employer seemingly has all the time and money in the world--so long as Rose completes the job. She’s starting to wonder what Roy did to piss him off. But she knows how to get under a guy’s skin--the right clothes, the right words, simple gestures to lure him in. 

The second time it’s after the mission, when they’re celebrating with drinks--with sparkling cider instead of alcohol (what is it with these guys?) Rose dons a bikini with his favorite colors--red and black and lounges on the deck chair next to Jason. Roy and Kori have the right idea--already having forgotten their bubbly beverages--drinking instead from each other’s lips. And Jason’s staring up at the stars. 

 Rose kind of envies him in that moment, floating on the water with nothing but wonder on his face. She swan dives at the opposite end, swimming her way toward him. The splash does stir his floaty, and Jason turns over to glance her way. Maybe, just maybe she has a chance. 

“Nice moves out there today. You dad teach you that?”

Rose shrugs. “My mom taught me a few things, too.” Mostly how to draw in close without her mark noticing. But nothing seems to slip Jason’s attention. 

Jason eyes her as her arms brace themselves on his thigh. “You really want me, don’t you.”

“Can’t fault a girl for trying.” And damn her, he’s gorgeous, and cut like a rock. Was it all his years in the batcave or his time with the All-Caste? 

But that’s not want hooks Rose the most. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not like that.” It’s the softness in his eyes. She’s only seen it a couple of times in the past few days, but each time he looks at his friends like that Rose swears she’s being let in on a big secret. 

“Do not tell me you’re gay.”

Jason laughs, laughs, and Rose immediately knows she’s in too deep. “Gay? Straight? Labels. Who needs ‘em?” He stretches out on the pool mattress, and he lets the leg Rose’s leaning on slip into the water. “They’re just more rules.” 

“Then why…?” Rose doesn’t say it. Doesn’t voice the rejection sinking into her brain. Admitting it out loud would mean admitting failure, and Rose Wilson does not fail. 

Shrugging, Jason murmurs. “Don’t know you well enough, yet.”

----

Rose should’ve given up at this point. Gone for the easier kill, damn the consequences. Just snapped Roy’s neck while Kori was in the shower. And why hasn’t she? She hasn’t the foggiest idea. But if she’s honest with herself--Rose knows exactly why. 

Roy is Jason’s best friend. 

Jason would never forgive her if he found out. 

And why does it matter if Jason hates her? 

Damnit, Rose. 

This was exactly the kind of fucked up shit her dad warned her about. Don’t stick around too long. Don’t make friends. Don’t let your mark get under your skin. And what did Rose do? Exactly that.

Her employer doesn’t care if she seduces Jason Todd or not, so why does Rose? 

Damn it all to fucking hell. 

Rose beats the hell out of the punching bag, shaking the chain it hangs from with every strike. Each punch she lands inspires a new idea. Slip some arsenic in his drink. Stab him from behind. Throw him off the roof of the ship. Press a pillow into his face. Snap his neck. Snap his fucking--

“Rose?”

Her fist freezes midair, and she pants, not bothering to turn around. “Yeah?”

“It’s Roy. Something’s happened.”

Fuck. “Is he dead?”

Jason’s eyes tighten as he shakes his head. “We need to find him. Fast.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

----

Rose should be happy. Roy did all her hard work for her. Someone found him while he was on a bender, tied him up, and has been carving up his skin as if the answers themselves will bleed right out. 

Amateurs. A professional knows only to interrogate a sober target. Establish a baseline of what the hostage knows and then break them down with intoxication if need be. Break them slowly, only as much as needed. Dead hostages can’t answer questions. 

“Arsenal?” Jason whispers, tilting up Roy’s chin. He doesn’t respond, and his head flops down, heavy against his chest. 

Kory shoots the nearest window, a low growl escaping from her throat as glass shards rain down the side of the building. Rose jumps a little, despite herself. She doesn’t want to imagine being on the receiving end of one of those star bolts. 

“C’mon, Roy. Answer me.” Rose never thought she’d hear Jason beg, not like that. She can’t stand it. 

Walking over, Rose check’s Roy’s pulse and sighs in relief. It’s sluggish, almost too faint to feel. Rose could put him out of his misery right here and now and his friends would have no idea who killed him. Just slip her knife in to hit his artery and bam. Problem solved. Her fingers slip toward the knife on her belt, but Jason’s pleading gaze stops her cold. 

“Is he…?” Oh fuck. Jason has tears welling in his eyes. 

“Alive.” Rose can just see the barrel of the gun her employer will use to tie up loose ends. “Not for long, though.”

Between the three of them, Jason, Rose, and Kory carry Roy back to the ship where they can apply first aid, and the ship’s alien technology can perform a synthetic blood transfusion. Roy’s pulse slowly returns to something recognizable, and Rose sinks in her seat. She’s deciding between her safe houses when Jason’s fingers graze her jaw. 

Rose jumps out of her seat, using everything in her power not to deck him in the face. “The fuck…?”

“Hey.” Oh. Jason’s nose is so close to hers that she can feel his breath on her face. She can smell the mint he just put in his mouth. Never once did Rose imagine Jason could be such a sap. The heat of his fingers sears her skin, but she doesn’t pull away. Rose dares a glance down his lips and when she looks back up Jason’s already tilting his head to meet hers. 

His kiss is softer than she expects, lightly brushing his lips over hers, holding her jaw just enough so she can slip away if she wants to. Rose freezes, never expecting this after all this time, all those refusals. Jason starts to pull back before her brain finally stops dividing by zero, and she grabs the back of his neck, crushing her lips against his. Swearing softly, Jason meets her tit for tat, and they stumble out of the med bay and into the hall. 

Rose presses him against the wall, slipping her hands inside the opening of his favorite jacket, feeling the heat rising off his chest and the rush of his heartbeat. Part of her still expect to wake up from this dream in her bed alone, heart hammering, skin flushed, thighs damp with need. She mouths a silent prayer into his lips, to the god she never bothers to answer to, pleading to make the dream real, just this once. 

Jason’s hands wander across her shoulders, down her arms, and around her hips to her back. Rose steps between his legs, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. Breaking for air, Jason’s words come out ragged. “We...we should pick a room. Yours or mine?”

Instead of answering him with words, Rose guides him to his door and shoves him inside, tossing his jacket to the floor. Jason stares at her breathlessly, and she hesitates. “Too much?”

“Never.” His fingers wind in her hair, pulling her back into another kiss.

Rose drinks him in like she’s parched for thirst, scratching the edge of his hairline from the tips of his ears to the base of his skull. Jason sucks in a breath and Rose grins into his mouth. She tastes him, gasping softly as his fingers twist in her curls, pulling at her hair just enough. HIs other hand wanders just south of her waist and he freezes. Stepping back, Rose loosens her hold, looking him over from head to toe. 

Jason pants, taking her in too. “...Are we…?”

Leaning against the closed door, Rose folds her arms. “Are we what, Jason?”

“Is this a onetime thing or…” Jason’s eyes trail back in the direction of the hospital room and suddenly the tension between him and the other Outlaws make a lot more sense. 

Damnit. “I’m a merc, Jason.” Really, she should be happy with the kiss, more than the kiss, but this--former Robin proves hard to let go of. “I’ve stayed here too long as it is.”

Jason’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and Rose plasters on her poker face, hoping he hasn’t found her out tonight of all nights. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Push me away.” His voice wavers as he speaks, and Rose’s heart plummets to her stomach. Damn him. 

“What do you want from me?” And damn her too, that waver is apparently contagious. 

Jason steps closer, sliding his hand in to cup her jaw, the edge of his thumb grazing the bottom of her cheek. “I don’t want to just fuck, Rose.” His eyes close, and he brushes his nose against hers. “I want to--” He clamps his mouth shut, trembling slightly in his touch. 

The word teeters on the edge of his tongue, but it doesn’t come out, so Rose pulls it out with a snarl. “Loving me will get you killed, Jason.”

A sloppy grin forms on his face, and Jason nods at her. “Death isn’t as final as you think.”

“So what. You’re immortal now?” She’s grinning too, and she knows she’s fallen too far to get back up.

Jason brushes his lips against hers. “I sure feel like I am when I’m around you.” His next kiss probes deeper, and one hand tugs on her elbow. “Stay. After this is over.”

Her answer is right there, just inside her mouth, but Rose says something else instead. “Oh? You’re that sure I’m a good fuck?”

His lips smack against hers. “I’m not here to fuck you.”

“Jason--”

He silences her with a finger, and then he traces the edge of her lips with his fingertip. Rose resists the urge to pull it into her mouth and suck on it. She’s doomed. “I’m here to make love to you.”

Rose swallows, freezing on the spot. “I can’t promise you anything.”

His smile slips, and she desperately wants to put it back on his face. Rose doesn’t want to break his heart, not anymore. “Rose--”

“No one can.” Tracing the space where his heart hammers in his chest, Rose whispers softly. “Someone could break in ten minutes from now and shoot me in the head.” Standing up on her tiptoes, she kisses his forehead. “Nothing’s guaranteed.” Then she kisses the back of his hand. “Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jason watches her, his face inscrutable as ever. 

Shit. Did I make things worse? Rose opens her mouth to murmur another apology but Jason kisses her before she can say a word. He pulls her close, his hands seemingly everywhere at once, and yet she craves more of him. Daring to slide her hand up Jason’s shirt, she grins into his lips as he leans heavily into her touch, a groan escaping from his lips despite himself. She grazes the lines of his abdomen with her nails. “Oh,” Rose says softly. 

Jason Todd. Blushing. As he watches her. “Like what you see?” he says just as soft. 

“I haven’t seen anything yet.” She ducks down, pushing up his shirt and following its path with her mouth. 

“Fuck.” One of his wandering hands finds its way back to her hair, holding her head as she breathes against his stomach. “Rose.”

Rose stands up, grinning against his collarbone. “Getting there.” She finds the hollow where his neck meets his shoulder and lavishes her attention there, charged by the tightening of his grip. 

Jason pushes her to arm’s length, taking a ragged breath. He drags down the zipper of her jacket, taking in the sight of her skin inch by inch. Rose presses into his touch, admittedly reddening a bit herself. His lips part with hunger, but it's the wonder in his eyes that stops her in place—like he sees the stars flickering across her skin.  With his fingers he traces the scar on her shoulder and the ones that line her arms. Sucking in a breath, he circles the mark of a bullet on her chest. “That must’ve hurt.”

“Like hell.” Rose mutters, only to gasp when Jason presses his lips against it. “Jason.”

“Shh,” he says softly, breathing in her scent as he edges his fingers beneath her bra and the plastron it holds. He traces a path up her neck and across her throat until he makes it to her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

Why does the thought of him being gentle make her heart beat faster?  Part of her wants him to have his way, and take his time exploring her body. Another, much louder part wants to rile him until he takes her fast and hard. Rose grabs the edge of his shirt, looking up at Jason. He nods, and she bites her lips as she pulls it over his head. 

Holy shit. 

Rose thought she had a lot of scars. Jason has so many she doesn’t even know where to start. There are the bullet marks, the punctures, the rhythmic signs of torture, the line going up the side of his neck and into his hairline where a crowbar must’ve bashed his head in. It’s not until Jason tilts her chin up that Rose realizes she’s been holding her breath. “I’m still here,” he whispers, pulling her into another kiss. She wonders how many times he’s kissed Death on the lips, only to pull back when it wanted him most. 

“Soon, you’ll in bed.” She grins against his lips, finding the latch on his belt. “Booby traps? Really?”

He laughs once, running a hand down her breast, feeling the softness of her skin there. “Safety first.” When he gets to the lines of her abdomen, he swallows, drawing a grin from Rose’s mouth. 

Stepping back, Rose eyes the latch, her brain already processing the potential catastrophes, and the configurations that would enable them. “Gotcha.” The belt clicks open, without a single explosion or poison released. 

Jason blinks at her as she sets the belt aside. “I can’t decide if that’s hot or terrifying.”

Rose stands up on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear. “Why not both?” She punctuates her question with a bite on his ear lobe. The rumble of his groan stirs her chest, sending shockwaves between her legs. Hooking her thumbs in his belt loops, Rose pulls him closer, grinding up against him. 

“Rose--” He says, in pleading or in warning, Rose isn’t quite sure.

“What do you want, Jay?” She runs the tip of her tongue up the ridge, shivering at the way his ragged breaths stir her hair. 

“Bed,” he says hoarsely, “now.” He pulls her with him, and they tumble into the sheets, boots still on. 

It’s a race, then, to see who can get the other’s off the fastest. Four thunks, laughs, and tangled sheets later, Rose climbs up his body, guiding his hands to her belt. Jason’s removed plenty of belts, that Rose is sure, but it’s like he deliberately fumbles his hands against her skin, just so he has an excuse to graze his knuckles there. And damn him, her skin jumps every time. Fine. She’ll make him lose track for real. Rose plants a wet kiss against his lips, running her hands down his shoulders and his arms, guiding his fingers until her belt clangs against his bookshelf before sliding to the floor. “Better,” she murmurs. 

Jason runs his fingertips along the edge of her jeans, drawing his touch up and down her spine. “I could stare at you for hours, you know that?”

Rose snorts. “I can think of better ways to spend your time.”

Tilting his chin in challenge, Jason sits back. “Oh? Like what?”

Biting her bottom lip, Rose catches his wandering hand, and takes it to the button of her jeans. “Lemme show you.”

Jason holds his breath, unbuttoning her jeans and drawing the zipper down. He’s so quiet Rose starts to doubt what her late-night visions have been telling her for months. Maybe they weren’t her precognition talking. Maybe they’re just the wet dreams so many guys and girls have had ever since Jason donned a mask. Searching his eyes, Rose says, “We can stop--”

Holding her gaze, Jason replies, “I don’t want to.” HIs fingers follow hers inside her jeans and inside her underwear, and he sucks in a breath. “Shit, you’re wet.”

Rose blushes, despite herself. “You really all that surprised?” She presses his fingers in slow, small circles, holding onto the headboard behind him for balance. Then she moves his touch faster, harder, gasping against his shoulder. “Nn, fuck.” 

“Breathe.” Jason chuckles softly, pressing a kiss into her shoulder. He moves his fingers more independently now while she’s distracted. And Rose breathes him in, awash in gunpowder and amber, and that salty scent he bears after a fight. Always so uniquely Jason Todd that the smell of it sends Rose right over the edge. He shakes them both with his laughter. “And our pants aren’t even off yet.”

“Shut up.” Rose pulls back to look at him.

He smirks. “Make me.”

Jason doesn’t need to say it twice. Rose assaults his lips with hers, pushing him down into the mattress. Making quick work of his jeans, she pulls them down as he shimmies out of them. Boxers briefs, huh? They’re just a simple grey with a black waist band--for some reason she’d expected some sort of smart-alecy words printed on them.  Sliding down, she runs the tip of her nose up the line of his bulge, grinning as he writhes beneath her. While she sits up, Rose edges her fingers inside, feeling along his length, breathing in Jason’s unsteady gasps. Always so coy and cocky, and now he can’t form a single word. “Cat got your tongue?” she murmurs against his ear. 

Jason turns his head, kissing her long and deep, rolling them over. Rose lifts her hips so he can get her jeans off, and he kisses just south of her belly button. “Mm.” Glancing up at her, Jason grins, kissing harder against that spot, lavishing his tongue until she squirms beneath him. But she doesn’t beg, not yet. The lines in his back are coiled tight, so tight his body might burst at the seams, but Jason takes his time, kissing down her hips, her thighs, her calves. Swallowing her whine, Rose reaches for his shoulder, but Jason takes her hands, placing them back at her sides. 

“Patience, Rose.” He silences her protests with a kiss, diving back between her legs, edging them apart so that he has room. His lips find her ankle, the back of her knee, and Rose heart pounds as he gets closer and closer to her underwear. There’s no hiding her need for him now, with the way it soaks the front of her boyshorts. Jason samples the taste of her through the fabric, giving her one long lick. 

“Oh fuck.” Rose gasps and twists, and Jason has to hold her down with one arm slung across her abs. He peels her underwear off, testing her with different pressures and strokes. Every so often, she catches him looking up at her, assuring himself he’d doing it just the way she likes. Her insides clench, and she twists in bliss, but Jason doesn’t stop, only pausing briefly to come up for air. Even then, his fingers fill in while he wipes his mouth.

“Shh.” He whispers against her mouth, reaching over into his bedside drawer for a condom. Did she say something? 

“Yeah?” Rose asks, and her voice comes out hoarse. Fuck, she must’ve been screaming. While he slides on the condom, she’s reaching over for a bottle of water, downing half of it without giving a fuck to whom drank from it last.

Jason returns to her, surprisingly shy when they’re so close to merging their bodies. He gives her one chaste kiss, then another, letting her lead the pace. She winds one hand around the back of his neck, scratching the skin at the base of his skull. The other she uses to thumb the scar next to his eyebrow, the sharp line of his jaw, the sheen of sweat running down his neck to his collarbone, and that delicious line that runs down to the thatch between his legs. Guiding him inside her, Rose closes her eyes, letting his groan wash over her shoulder. 

Rose traces circles across his back as he thrusts in and out, only to grip his shoulder when he picks up the pace. Jason grins against her mouth, sliding his hand between them, and Rose jolts, clinging to him as she whimpers into his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against her mouth. “You can let go.” His tone meanders between loving and teasing, and maybe for Jason there is no line between them. 

She doesn’t want to, not again before he does. But then Jason has to fucking whisper sweet nothings in her ear. 

“You’re so beautiful when you let go,” he says softly, and her world flashes white, much like it does on the cusp of a vision. Her body coils like a spring, and Rose hooks her ankles around his hips, drawing him deeper inside as she clenches around him. 

Jason’s eyes pinch shut as he loses his tightly held control, and Rose rolls her hips until he falls to her side. “Holy hell,” he gasps softly, muffled by his pillow. 

“Yeah.” Rose shouldn’t, but she can’t help but kiss his left temple, tucking them in and tossing the spent condom aside. 

She spends the night committing every line of his body to memory. And it helps soothe her in the weeks, months, and years ahead. 

---

The next morning, Rose rolls to get closer to him, only to find his side of the bed empty. In his place, Jason left a small, folded piece of paper, and Rose takes her time undoing all the creases. 

Rose,

You’ve no idea how amazing you are. I hope last night isn’t the end of it, but I understand if it is.

--Jason.

Beneath his name, Jason’s inscribed his number, and though Rose memorizes it within seconds, she always keeps the note close, in her utility belt or between her bra and her plastron, next to her beating heart. 

[forlornmelody]

Kord Center Mall: Rose Takes Cassie for a Drive

Rating: E (smut with some plot, for flavor)

Fandom(s): DC Comics, (some mentions of Mass Effect characters but this is very crossover-lite.)

Ship: Rose Wilson/Cassie Sandsmark (mentions of JayRose)

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:  Rose Wilson is Cassie Sandsmark's most obnoxious coworker. She can hardly stand sharing a desk with her, most days. But when Rose proposes a little after-hours experiment, Cassie can't help but accept.

Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned.

-->-->

Rose sits on the counter, her feet resting on either side of Cass’s keyboard. “So, are you into girls at all?”

“What?” Cass glances at her briefly, and then glues her eyes to her computer screen, which just so happens to sit between Rose’s legs.

“I can’t get a read on you. You were a star pitcher, and no one in softball is straight...but as far as I know you haven’t fucked anyone since Conner took that football scholarship at USC.”

“Who I do and do not screw is none of your business, Rose.” 

“That’s not a no.”

Cass takes a deep breath through her nose. “Why are you so interested in my sexuality all of a sudden?”

Rose quirks one of her eyebrows, leaning until her elbows rest on her knees. “Isn’t it obvious?” Her tank top dips low in a way that makes Cass roll her eyes. 

“You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I just...find you really fucking annoying.” Rose sits back up. “But if you’re too scared to kiss a girl I get it.” She starts to climb off the desk.

“Wait.” Rose stops, eyeing her with a smile that looks a little too much like Cass’s cat when she’s caught a mouse underneath her paw. “Are we just talking about a kiss?”

Rose’s grin widens. “However much you want, blondie.” She kicks her heels, managing to not hit Cass in the process. “But if you want more you’ll have to ask.”

Cass brushes her out of the way of the screen and gestures to Rose’s empty chair--which her desk partner hasn’t used since lunch. “Where is this going to happen? And don’t say the showers. Cause I’m pretty sure Ash and her new client have already claimed that spot.”

“Damn. That was fast.” 

“Jealous?”

“NO.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

Rose settles next to Cass, chewing one of her sticks of gum. “Dunno. Pretty sure someone will catch us in the corridor--” She eyes Cass once over. “--Unless you’re into that.”

Cass meets her eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.” Rose takes one of Cass’s pens, clicking the spring repeatedly. “Maybe that new store front coming in?”

“And get thrown out for trespassing? No thanks.”

“Caass,” Rose whines.

“Do you want to kiss me or not?”

“Fine.” Rose pulls Cass’s keyboard away from her, tapping the f key repeatedly. Cass throws her hands up, settling for watching her think. “My car’s too small.” She groans, banging her head into the keys, only to snap her head back up. “Wait. I got it.”

“Where?”

“Meet me in the transit garage after your shift.” Rose stands, heading towards the exit.

“Where’re you going?”

Rose turns, winking at her. “Catch you later, blondie.”

“Hey! Your shift isn’t over for another hour!”

“Byyyyyee.”

Cass is going to kill her. First, she’s going to kiss her. Then she’s going to kill her. 

-->-->

Cass waits at the elevator, watching commuters leave the train, hop into their cars and take off. The garage has nearly emptied by the time Rose taps her on the shoulder. She guides her to a Tesla sitting at the charging station. She opens the door for Cass, who then stares at her in disbelief. 

“Hey. I can be nice. When I want to be.”

“When you want something,” Cass wryly, getting in the passenger side. “Where’re we going?”

Rose grins at her, pushing to start the engine. The radio starts blaring “Voodoo Child.” “You’ll see.” She takes off with a peel, and Cass finds herself gripping the handle next to her head. Panic bar indeed. 

“You know...I never took you for a Hendrix fan.”

“I’m not. This is Joey’s car.”

“Seriously?”

“Did you want to go for a ride in my beater?” Cass rolls her eyes. “Didn’t think so.”

The drive takes them up one of the windiest roads Cass has ever seen. She isn’t one to get carsick, but she might have to make an exception. 

“Do not throw up in my brother’s car,” Rose says sternly

“Then stop driving like my grandma.”

“Your grandma drives like this?”

“Why do you think they took her license away?”

The car pulls to a stop. “Well, we’re here.” Rose puts it into park, but she leaves the radio on. 

Cass whistles. She can see at least three snowcapped mountains looming over the city’s skyline. The sun setting behind them casts a pink glow over everything it touches. “Dang. Where are we?” Even Rose’s silver hair turns gold this time of day. 

“Highest point in town, blondie.” Rose puts the driver’s seat down. “Now put your seat down.”

“Wait. We’re making out in your car?”

“My brother’s car, yeah.” When Cass doesn’t move, Rose snorts. “Do you really want to get arrested?”

“Whatever.” Cass does as asked. 

Rose watches her, fiddling with the fringe of her scarf. “Better. Now sit up.” 

Cass complies, her heart hammering in her ears. God, she feels like she’s sixteen again. Rose leans over, tugging one of the shoestrings on Cass’s hoodie. Swallowing, she dares to brush her fingers down Rose’s cheek, reveling in the feeling of her. Goosebumps bristle across their skin despite the warmth of Joey’s car in the sun. Taking a breath, Rose closes in, and they both close their eyes.

“If you’re going to kiss me, you better start using my actual name.” Cass sits back, grinning at Rose’s groan.

Rose wets the bottom of her lip. “Alright then.” She whispers her name as she tilts her head. “Cassandra.” 

Cass finds Rose’s lips surprisingly soft. Rose presses in before seemingly remembering herself. She pulls back, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes search Cass’s shyly. This is a side of her coworker she’s never seen before. “Well?”

“Well what?”

Rose licks her lips again, swallowing. “Did you want to head back or…?”

Cass blinks. “Now? We just got here.”

The younger Wilson dares to smile. “Yeah.” She turns up the stereo. “But if you want more than a kiss, you’re going to have to ask me.” And just like that Rose’s mask is back on. Cassie resolves to remove that mask by any means necessary--the thought sends a thrill down her spine. Holy crap, is she--are they really doing this?

“Okay.” Cass says, and then whatever witty thing she had planned on saying falls right off her tongue as Rose lounges back on her seat, letting the hem or tank top ride up. In all her years of being an athlete, Cass has seen plenty of cut abs, but never as she seen them displayed quite like this. “You look really nice.” She whispers almost reverently.

Rose blinks at her, then smirks. “That...wasn’t a question.”

Crap. Cass swallows. “Y’know...you’re making it really hard for me to think straight.”

“Uh, Cass. I’m pretty sure you’re not straight.”

“Har. Har.” Cass takes her hand, running her thumb across Rose’s fingers. She squeezes her hand, willing the words out. Here we go. “Wanna make out with me?” Really, she wants to ask for more, but all of this is so new, and she’s scared of screwing it up.

“Hell yeah.” Rose surges over the console dividing them, nearly crushing Cass with the force of her kiss.

The car has trouble containing them as they explore each other’s mouths with their tongues--elbows, knees, and fists continually bumping into the windows, the door, the seat. Somehow Rose ends up in Cass’s lap, and her fingers in Cass’s hair. She’s definitely not complaining. Cass drags her nails down Rose’s neck, answering her strength in kind--she’s going to take those same nails down Rose’s abs later. 

A moan slips out of Rose’s mouth. “Shit, Cass.” 

Drinking her in, Cass does it again, surprised at her own yearning. She’s thought about girls, sure. Kissed a couple on a dare. But this? Does this mean she’s--

Rose lips clamp down on her neck, silencing her questions with the sound of her own moan. “God, Rose.”

She pulls back with a pop, panting a little breathlessly. “Mm. Too fast?” Cass shakes her head. “Too hard?”

Cass swallows. “No. Uh...I just…. oh geeze.” Her hair is as red as her hoodie. 

Rose smirks, but says nothing, running her thumb across Cassie’s hand. What is it about her that makes Cassie question everything? 

“You’re great. Amazing.” Her eyes keep wandering to the patch of skin peeking out from beneath Rose’s shirt. “I think I want you.” She manages to say out loud.

Laughing, Rose mutters something about uncooked spaghetti as she closes in for another kiss. 

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing.” Rose snickers, sliding her hand up Cassie's shirt, skimming the skin of her throat with her teeth. She’s putty in her hands as Rose’s fingers toy with the lace in her bra. Cass has never been that sensitive there, but the way Rose watches her as she pulls her nipple into her mouth makes Cass gasp for air. 

Cass feels like she’s back on the field, going up against the player with the best batting average. She hasn’t been this intimidated by another girl in years. Running her hand down Rose’s front, she finds the bottom of her shirt, and that delicious stretch of muscle underneath. “Now I see why you’re always at the gym.”

Rose snickers, fingering the hem of Cass’s shirt. She shakes her head, letting go of her shirt and sliding a single finger down to the waistband of her jeans. Her eyes smolder into Cass’s as she asks, “Can I?”

“Yes,” Cass answers breathlessly, pulling her in for another kiss. She trails her lips down Rose’s neck, tracing every muscle on her torso. How can Rose be so hard and soft at the same time? “I love the way you feel,” she whispers reverently into her skin.

“You’ll be loving the way I make you feel here in a minute.” Rose pops open Cass’s jeans like it’s the lid of a soda can, smirking as her underwear peeks out from underneath. “Polka dots, huh? I always thought of you more like a stripes kind of girl.”

“Laundry day.” They both laugh, softer as Rose drags her zipper down. “Mm.” Cass presses her lips together, squirming a little under her touch.

“Shit, you’re wet.” Rose swallows hard, sitting up so she can shuck Cass’s jeans off her hips. There’s only one problem. “Ow.” She groans as her head collides with the ceiling.

Cass blinks. “You okay?”

“This was way sexier in my head.” Rose mutters, rubbing her scalp.

“Shh.” Cass silences her with a finger. “This is great.” She pulls Rose into a hungry kiss, shivering at the way she melts into her touch. Rose holds her a little bit tighter and a little bit longer, and Cass can’t help but notice that carefully constructed facade coming loose again. Undoing Rose’s jeans, she lets her finger just inside, following the waistband around her hips until she reaches that dip just above her--

“Oh.” Rose whispers breathlessly as Cass cups her ass and squeezes.

Cass shivers, whispering into her ear. “I can tell you put a lot of thought into this.” She traces the lace of her boyshort with her finger and thumb. “That is really sexy.”

Rose hesitates ever so slightly as her hands wander across Cass’s bare thighs. She’s gathering her defences for another witty remark, but Cass is determined. Using those same fingers, she brushes that lace against Rose’s clit in a way that makes Rose gulp. “I…” Her words drown in her moan as Cass presses deeper. “Fuck.”

“I think you’re beautiful, Rose.” She shivers as Rose’s finger fumble against her underwear. Cass draws languid circles across her soaked skin, feeling her nerves settle into place. It feels good and right and Cass wonders why she never tried it before. 

“Nng. Cass...I--” Rose rolls her hips involuntarily, her skin bathed in gold.

“Shh.” The angle is different, the feedback not so instantaneous, but the method’s not all that different from what she does in her down time. “Just enjoy it.” Cass tugs on her ear lobe with her teeth as digs faster, tighter, even as Rose shudders under her touch. 

Finally, Rose tugs her hand away. “Jesus fucking Christ, Cassie. Why you gotta be so perfect?” She licks her lips breathlessly as her fingers slide against her slick. “You’re making me look bad.”

Cassie laughs. “You just want everyone to think you’re--” Her words are gone, lost in the feel over Rose’s fingers moving across her with precision. Swallowing a moan, Cass feels her stomach flip as she realizes Rose may have been paying closer attention than she thought. Cause she’s moving her fingers in the exact same w-- “Oh.” 

Rose snickers. “Think I’m what, Cass?” Her finger slips in a circle around her entrance. “Can I?”

“Please,” Cass begs, clutching her arms as Rose’s finger slides inside quick and easy, curling and twisting in a way that makes her squirm.

“You like that?” Rose whispers against her ear. Cass moans her reply, helplessly sensitive to her touch. “You want more?” Her thumb circles her clit in calculated move that sends Cass’s head knocking against the back of her seat. “Yeah?” She adds a second finger, driving and squeezing and the entire car washes over with heat and light.

Cassie settles next to her, languid and warm. The two of them don’t really fit on the seat, so they press together side by side. “So... why me? Why now?”

“Mm?” Rose stretches, and Cassie watches her with a pull in her gut. 

“Ugh, how do I put this...you’ve never been interested in me before. Why now?”

Rose shrugs. “I figured now was as good a time as any.” She traces circles on Cassie’s hip.

Cassie doesn’t buy it. Her late-night texts with Cissie and Greta flash across her brain. “Is this about Jason?”

Rose’s fingers freeze in place. “No.”

“That’s not Cissie sa--”

“Oh shut up. This is why you’re annoying.” Her finger leaves Cassie’s skin bare, jabbing her tummy. “You and your It Girl Club.”

Cassie grabs that finger and pulls it into her mouth. “You’re in love with him.”

“Fuck off, Cassie.” Rose climbs back into the driver’s seat.

“And it scares you.”

“I said fuck off.” She yanks her jeans back on, swearing as they struggle in her hands.

“Relax. I’m not going to tell.” Cassie pulls her jeans on too, even though she doesn’t want to quite yet. 

“Like hell you aren’t.” Rose starts the engine and Cassie sighs into the window. Really, she should have expected things to go back to where they had been before, but part of her doesn’t want it to. And why should it?

“If you’re not going tell him, I will.”                                                 

Rose jerks the car to a stop. Thank goodness they were in a quiet neighborhood and not downtown. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I’m not disposable, Rose, Cassie’s mind screams at her, but she keeps it buried under a cool smile--a trick she perfected in school. “Wouldn’t I?” Rose isn’t the only one who can put on a mask.