THAT LAST JASON FIC WAS SO GOOD 😭😭😭😭😭😭 LITERALLY ME WITH MY CRUSH RN! Please can you do a part two?? You are literally the best Jason writer on this site! Thank you!!!
part 1 | lmao i wrote that first one about by MY crush actually. sorry this took like, idk four years to get it i rewrote it like 6 times @dicckgrayson @niightwngs and i never know who else to tag omg
Jason calls you four times before you slide your phone underneath your couch. You don’t know if you’re angry or sad or a mixture of both but you burrow on your couch and wave off your roommates when they ask if you want to come out with them. The door shuts behind them with a deafening click.
The sound of a thunderstorm racks through the apartment as you try to focus on The Office but you can’t. You can’t keep sitting still but you don’t want to leave your apartment so you start to clean. You’re halfway through scrubbing the backsplash with an old toothbrush when there’s a knock on the door. You’re not expecting anyone so you ignore the knocks and focus on a particularly grimy section of grout. The knocking gets louder and more persistent the longer you ignore it until you can’t ignore it.
“What?” You ask harshly, swinging the door open. You don’t know if you’re surprised or not whenever you find Jason on the other side. His hair is plastered against his forehead, the white streak covering his eye.
“Hey, Jason what’s up?”
He doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you as you tap your fingers against the door, waiting on him to say something so you can decide if you need to slam the door shut or not.
“I want to talk to you.”
You shake your head and refuse to look Jason in the eye. You know what he’s going to want to talk about and you don’t want to do it. You’re not going to do it.
“Come in, but I’m busy so let’s not like take all night.”
You leave him at the door to take up scrubbing the wall again. The cheap wood of one of the bar stools creaks underneath Jason as he settles into it.
“I don’t really know what to say,” Jason says and you resist the urge to slam your toothbrush down. You ignore him to focus on a slice of grout that’s been discolored by years of cooking grease. You can almost feel Jason staring at you, silently begging you to say something but you won’t. You’re scared that if you do say anything, you’ll blow up again.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jason asks, voice uncharacteristically soft.
You slow down on the scrubbing, eyes closing as you try to make sure you don’t say the wrong thing. When you speak, you do it without looking at Jason.
“You’re my best friend Jay. And, there’s an acceptable time that someone can ask out their friend without it being weird. I passed that up years ago and I guess by the time I realized that I really wanted to date you, it was too late. But it-it doesn’t matter. It’s no big deal. I’m sorry that I blew up on you and everything.”
You’re still not looking at Jason; the barstool creeks and Jason’s boots hit the cheap linoleum floor.
“You still should have said something.”
“But why?” You ask, spinning around. Jason’s standing beside the refrigerator, hands buried deep into the pockets of his jacket.
“Why would I have said anything and risked our friendship? I would rather have you as my best friend then not have you at all.”
Jason scuffs the toe of his foot against the floor, his eyes trained hard on the cabinet behind you.
“What if,” he stops to clear his throat, you catch a glimpse of red creeping up his neck,” what if I would have said yes.”
It’s deafening quiet as you process what he said.
“No, no. Jason you don’t get to ask that. You don’t get to do that to me.”
Jason’s shaking his head; you don’t realize he’s coming towards you until his hands wrap around your arms; soft enough that he’s not hurting you but you can feel his fingertips diffing into your flesh.
“Do you still-“ he pauses, fingertips digging harder into your arm, “do you still want something more?”
You don’t know how to answer and when Jason kisses you, you don’t know what to do. Jason pulls back and reaches up to push a strand of hair out of your face. Your fingertips creep up the front of his jacket to tangle in the lapel.
“Are you sure about this Jason?”
He kisses you again, harder this time. The counter top digs into your back as Jason reaches up to tangle his hands in your hair. When Jason pulls back this time, you keep your grip on his jacket, keeping him pulled as close as possible.