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Honestly, their rivalry could last months at this point, but it’s surprising that only today do they meet in person—with Black Mask personally picking up a brand-new shipment of drugs. Well, he would have picked it up if Red Hood hadn’t been watching him.
Step one:Cut the power to the building to gain the upper hand against his countless goons. His helmet’s night vision helps him position himself perfectly for his entrance, of course.
What? Only Batman gets dramatic entrances? Please. Jason’s been dreaming of punching Black Mask’s face for at least three months. This has to have some flair, especially since Jason’s definitely going to stir up more trouble with the crime boss.
Step two: After his entrance, lean into the sarcasm for the goons’ "IT’S THE RED HOOD!" and Black Mask’s screeching "SHOOT, YOU IDIOTS!" The more he can use it to piss them off, the better. Sarcasm is basically Jason’s first language, after all. It’s dark, and the goons are trying to light up the area and shoot at anything that moves. Honestly, they don’t make goons like they used to. Jason loves stomping on their faces while pulling off flips that would make Dick proud.
Step three: After kicking all the goons’ asses, head straight for the crime boss… who’s oddly still. Huh, maybe Black Mask is even more of a coward than he thought. Well, beating the crap out of this piece of trash might scare him enough to back off from hunting Jason later.
Step four: Kick the bastard to the ground, and when he tries to move, plant a boot on his chest. Step on him like he deserves. Put this villain in his place.
And that’s where the exclusive, fun Red Hood tutorial ends! Now, let’s get serious.
Jason leans over the pathetic excuse of a man on the floor, and the lower he crouches, the more pressure his boot applies to Roman’s chest. He stops only when their faces are close enough for Jason to hear the small whimpers of pain escaping Roman. The only movement now is the man’s hand weakly grasping at Jason’s ankle, trying to push him off—and Red Hood hopes at least one rib cracks in the process.
"I warned you this territory is mine now. Were the decapitated heads not enough for you, Maskie? Or is there no brain left in that skull of yours after your accident?"
"Red Hood… So we finally meet. I must say, you’re even more… splendid in person..." Black Mask rasps, his voice barely a whisper. He must be running out of air. Good.
"Stay out of my territory, or it’ll be your head I send flying, Sionis. I’m not joking." Roman’s hand slides up to Jason’s calf—surprisingly strong for a scrawny guy like him. Jason figures adrenaline and oxygen deprivation can do weird things.
Jason removes his boot from Roman’s chest—why does it feel like he tried to hold on? Trying to fight back? Not so cowardly after all, huh?—and just as quickly as it started, Red Hood knocks Black Mask out before he can recover. He takes the shipment that was meant for the bastard and, just to rub it in, calls the cops on Sionis.
Let’s see how much bail’s gonna cost Maskie.
....
Roman spent a fortune on bail. He’s covered in bruises, with a boot print stamped on his chest—a delicious mark… It’s true that Roman had never seen Red Hood in person before. All he’d had were grainy photos and low-quality videos.
He’d screamed at the investigation team back then.
It didn't do any good.
After a while, he accepted that his rival—the thief stealing his territory—was almost like a shadow. Slippery as a snake, impossible to pin down. Roman had dismissed the man when he first appeared, stealing parts of his turf. He’d raged when he heard about the heads. He’d wanted to kill when he found out his former employees had willingly switched sides to work for Red Hood. Rude.
Roman only screamed when he had good reason, thank you very much.
But that’s the past. Now, in the present, Roman falls strangely silent every time he thinks… about that man. Strong. Intelligent. Calculated. Brave. Defiant. Handsome. Gorgeous. Hot.
Red Hood was splendid. Damn, those thighs could break homes! Start wars! Roman would gladly let himself be stomped on again. But imagine stomping on Red Hood… Oh yes, imagine that. Maybe Roman wants him in his bed more than in a grave. Maybe.
He might also be a little… sexually frustrated. Honestly, it’s hard to relieve tension when you’re this busy. And the prostitutes? They just tremble around him. For someone else, that might be exciting—but for Roman, it just grated on his already short patience. It’s even worse when it’s a problem money can’t fix… Like his face.
Still, his little thief needs to learn a lesson. First step?Let’s find out who the man behind the mask really is. Time to hunt some bats…
....
Someone broke into Jason’s hideout. No—more specifically, someone bugged one of Jason’s hideouts. Hmm. Judging by the tech, it’s not Bruce or Oracle. Tim wouldn’t do this to a hideout Jason uses regularly. Dick wouldn’t either. Maybe the demon brat? No, the kid’s never cared enough about Jason to bug his stuff. Small victories.
A villain, then. Who’s Jason pissed off lately? Plenty come to mind, but one in particular throbs in his skull.
Roman Sionis.
Damn it. Roman had never found anything of Jason’s before—not until now. Red Hood knows what he has to do: burn everything the bastard could’ve gotten his hands on and stay more mobile. Jason thinks he might’ve pissed off the crime boss more than intended this time.
He doesn’t regret it.
…Not until recently.
Black Mask is obsessed. There’s no other word for it. The situation’s gotten so bad that Dick knows about it—while on a mission with the Titans on another planet. ON ANOTHER PLANET. Damn you, Tim. Bruce has been spending more time in Crime Alley, and Jason’s kicked him out more than once this month. He doesn’t need help! And it’s not like Maskie’s trying to kill him—no, he’s calling Jason. Taunting him to come.
A trap. Damn it. Sionis is pissed about the stolen territory… or the shipment… or the beating, the million-dollar bail, the goons, the sarcastic humiliations… Huh. Looking back, Jason doesn’t regret much. It’s almost a happy memory. Good times.
But that doesn’t matter now. The bastard set up a scene with civilians. The message is clear: "Come to me, or suffer the consequences." And Black Mask is crazy if he thinks Jason won’t beat the hell out of him when they’re alone. Again.
Let’s see what Maskie wants. Let’s see if he can handle the rage and stress he’s put Jason through lately.
....
Roman Sionis is in his penthouse. There are guards the size of Bane outside the door, and even though Jason was instructed to enter unarmed, he’s still confident he could escape without much trouble.
Jason steps inside, alert, his eyes locking onto the dining table (?) where Black Mask sits. Red Hood is confused—this isn’t the reception he expected. No, something with knives and a gun would’ve been more fitting for their relationship.
Jason doesn’t speak either. He just watches as Roman pours more wine—some ridiculously expensive brand. For a moment, neither says a word. If Jason was summoned against his will, then Sionis can start talking.
"Red Hood. So we meet again. Sit." Sionis’ voice is an order—one Jason has no intention of obeying.
"What, we having a candlelit dinner now? Gonna ask me how my day was? Well, at least you’re paying for the meal."
"Sit. Jason."
Damn it. If Sionis knows his name, how much does he know about the others? A little? Everything? Jason’s gonna have to file a report after this.
Red Hood sits, reluctantly. Pure hatred burns in his gaze as Sionis pours him wine, but Jason does nothing except glare murderously. Sionis ignores him completely, eating as if nothing’s wrong.
As if Jason isn’t one second from grabbing a fork and stabbing it through the man’s throat.
When Sionis finishes, he calmly rises and gestures for Jason to join him on the sofa. Jason’s brows furrow even deeper.
"Take off the helmet. I already know who’s behind the mask. I want to see your expressions while we talk."
And Jason does. He still has his domino mask on underneath, but it doesn’t hide how pissed he is. Maskie makes an approving noise that only makes Jason’s blood boil hotter.
"You’ve probably noticed I’ve been… very interested in you lately." Jason scoffs as Sionis continues his monologue. "I assume you’ve at least… guessed what I want?" Sionis’ face can’t smile, but Jason sees the twisted amusement in his eyes.
"Your old territory."
Sionis laughs.
"It’d be nice to have it back, but that’s not what I’m after right now. Try again."
"The shipment I stole before you got arrested."
"Again."
"…The money you lost, then."
"Once more."
"You want leverage over Batman. You know my identity, so—"
"Jason. Again."
"My skills?"
"Close. Care to rephrase?"
"You want someone competent in your ranks. Someone you know can get the job done."
"I want you."
"???"
"Words don’t seem to be your strong suit. Maybe I should show you, darling."
Then Black Mask takes Red Hood’s hand and brings it to his lips in what should be a chaste, elegant kiss—the kind from the cliché romances Jason read in his short youth. The gesture freezes him—until Roman’s tongue darts out and licks his hand. Now "obscene" is the word.
And when Roman gives him a lust-filled, malicious look, ready to drag his tongue up Jason’s arm—well, Red Hood punches him square in the face before the maniac can even try.
"WHAT THE FUCK, SIONIS?!"
"…Let’s make a deal. Three days a week, you come to me. For at least three hours, and—"
"I’M NOT A PROSTITUTE—"
"We don’t have to have sex. Just… meetings. And I’ll show you what I can offer in return."
"You really think after everything, I’d—"
"Then say goodbye to the Bats’ secret identities."
"…You do know the Joker kills anyone who exposes Batman’s identity, right? Please, go ahead."
"He doesn’t know. And you won’t tell him, given your history. Honestly, I could put up a billboard right now with the evidence. I have people ready to do it the second you walk out without my permission."
"I could—"
"Honestly, Hood, it’s just meetings. I won’t force you into anything. If it doesn’t work out, we go back to how things were. I won’t expose Batman’s identity—I never wanted to know it in the first place. I’m just using it as leverage."
"Oh yeah? So if I say no, you’ll just—"
"I don’t want problems with the Joker or anyone else protecting Batman. But I will make them if you refuse without even one real meeting."
"You’ve got to be kidding me. All of this—for DATES?! Months of you chasing me, BECAUSE YOU LIKE ME!?! You expect me to mbelieve that?!"
"You’re worth the investment, darling. But if you don’t come, there will be consequences."
Jason punches Black Mask until he’s on the floor again.
He still goes to the damn meeting. Fuck.
....