Roy Harper

Jason’s apartment was a mess of pizza boxes, takeout containers, and half-empty beer bottles. The TV flickered dimly in the background, playing some mindless action flick neither of them were really watching. It was a rare, quiet night—no crime, no patrolling, just a break from their usual shitstorm of a life. His twin sister had just gotten up to use the bathroom when Roy, in all his infinite wisdom, grinned and leaned over.

“So… your sister. She single?”

Jason paused mid-swig and groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Dude. No.”

Roy raised his hands in defense. “What? I’m just saying—”

“No, I don’t wanna hear you just saying.” Jason shook his head, sinking further into the couch. “Christ. You really wanna make things awkward?”

Roy scoffed. “It wouldn’t be awkward if you weren’t so weird about it. I mean, she’s cool. Funny. Kinda scary, but, you know, in a hot way—”

Jason blinked. “Do you have a death wish?”

Roy frowned. “What? No—”

Jason rolled his shoulders, jaw ticking slightly like he was actually weighing out whether this was a joking situation or a bury Roy in Gotham Harbor situation. “Because if you even think about my twin sister, I’ll decorate my apartment walls with the modern art that I call your brain shot out of your head.”

Roy blinked. “That was… weirdly specific.”

Jason unpaused the movie. “I dunno, man." He begins mock-casually,

"Just something about my best friend thirsting over my twin makes me wanna introduce his skull to some bullet-based home décor.” He hums in thought as if he didn't threaten to shoot Roy's brains out.

Roy just grinned like the reckless idiot he was and slugs his shoulder. “C’mon, Jaybird, you wouldn’t actually shoot me over this.”

Jason exhaled sharply. “Wouldn’t I?” he grumbles.