ᣟ𐚁˳| Mid-air nap (req)

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Conner perked up the moment a familiar heartbeat slipped into the background noise of Metropolis, steady, unmistakable, yours. That was... weird. What were you even doing here? Metropolis wasn’t exactly on your usual patrol route, and Kon had made it very clear you were his least favorite bat. Too reckless. Too mouthy. Too annoying. At least, that’s what he told himself every single time his attention snapped unbidden toward the rhythm of your heart.

It took him less than five minutes to find you.

You were crouched on a rooftop ledge, shoulders slumped, mask tilted just enough for him to catch the telltale signs of exhaustion. Even through the fabric, he could see it, you were running on coffee, stubbornness, and whatever scraps of willpower you had left. Your heartbeat fluttered a little too fast, uneven in a way that made his jaw tighten.

Yeah. No way was he letting you trek all the way back to Gotham like this.

You barely had time to protest before his hands were under your arms and the city dropped away beneath you. You snapped at him, complained, insisted, loudly, that you were fine, thank you very much. Conner ignored every word, the corners of his mouth twitching as he lifted higher into the night sky.

Eventually, your arguments softened into grumbles, then trailed off altogether. The only thing left was the sound of the wind and the slow, sleepy rhythm of your heartbeat settling against his senses.

After a few quiet minutes, Conner sighed and shifted midair, flipping so his back faced the ground. He guided you gently on top of him, one arm firm and secure around your back.

“You can sleep on the way there,” he said, adjusting his sunglasses as he glanced down at you.

And then, damn it, you looked up at him.

Jesus. Every time you showed your stupidly attractive face around Metropolis, it made his heart stutter like an idiot. You tried to argue again, threatening him with... something he didn’t quite catch, but the fight drained out of you halfway through. Your muscles finally relaxed, and your heartbeat evened out, slow and warm.

“Finally,” Conner murmured, his voice softer now. He listened for a moment longer, frowning faintly. All that coffee was going to give you a heart attack one day. He fought the urge to press a quick kiss to your forehead, barely won that battle, then settled for pulling you a little closer.

With you safely tucked against him, Conner wrapped his arm around you, pulled out his phone, and scrolled aimlessly as the city lights blurred below. Gotham was a straight shot from here. He had time. And for once, he didn’t mind the quiet at all.