He wasn't really expecting an answer. Bruce wasn't the most talkative creature in existence to begin with and adding in the stress and emergency of the night and Jason knew better then to think he was going to get an actual conversation out of the man.

It was something that used to chafe Dick to no end, but Jason had understood it. Even back in his booty shorts and pixie boots days. Instead, he let himself rest back against the bed, his body starting to communicate with him exactly how badly he was hurt. His hands were on fire, shards of wood and concrete debris still embedded in his fingers. His lungs ached from how much dust he'd inhaled. He was...He was in bad shape.

But he was alive.

He was alive because Bruce had come for him.

He reached up with one blood covered hand, knowing that Bruce wouldn't care that he left streaks on his face. "You saved me. You came for me. I...I was as good as dead in that building." His fingers trailed over the man's features, a slight tremble in them before all at once he was curling his fingers in the neck of the suit and using it to haul the broad man down.

The kiss was light, almost shy, but Jason initiated it.

"Knock me out. I'll move less and you'll be able to do a better job without me screaming loud enough to wake Alfred."

'I trust you'.