Work Text:
I’ve always seen you
even when the world seemed dark and cold
you shined like it was the sunrise
and we’ve spent so long clashing against the universe
we’ve spent so much time fighting against our hearts
denying that the other holds the thread to repair the fragmented parts
because I’m never as safe as when I’m with you
and darling, we can save each other
because the greatest and most vicious word in human tongue is hope
and that’s the feeling you’ve always sparked inside of me
something that buried deep under the burning and yearning
but when you look at me, I am the better version of who I’ll become
—if anything, before you I was invisible by Abby S
• • •
iii.
Jason dresses and leaves Tim’s bedroom silently, pulling his jacket over his shoulder as the door closes behind him. Tim rolls over in bed and stares at the shut door for the next few minutes, his brain slowly processing what they had just done. He stares as he hears the front door shut, continues to stare until he finally shakes himself out of his torpor and goes to the bathroom to shower. After turning on the water, he steps in immediately, no need to undress in his already-nude state. He flinches at the cold of the water, but forces himself to endure until he becomes used to it.
He needs to wake up. The last hour had to have been a dream. There was no way in his right mind he would’ve chosen to have sex with Jason. He had mentally cockblocked himself from that ever happening.
He thinks of what Dick had said earlier that week. ‘Jason is like a wildfire sometimes. Getting close would only fuel that fire.’ He had ignored that advice and straight up doused the fire with gasoline.
But, maybe Dick was wrong. Maybe Jason wasn’t going to burn him up like everyone thinks, like he had even once thought. Maybe Jason isn’t fire, maybe he’s something else. Maybe….
Tim shakes the thought off and continues his shower.
• • •
i.
Tim is not tired. This is something he tells himself often. He could repeat this simple lie to himself as much as he wanted to, could use that lie to trick his body into doing more productive things. Work on cold cases. Update his custom police scanner’s code. Get more workout time in.
It’s simple math: less sleep, more time to be productive. He isn’t an idiot, he knows that obviously humans have to sleep at some point, but he’s on a roll. He’s being efficient, he’s being productive as fuck. And staying active is a great way to ignore the siren song that his bed sung to him. Because he knows the second he lays in that damn California king, he’s never going to want to leave it. He’ll be there for days after he’s woken up from the initial power nap, doing nothing but scrolling through his Twitter feed. Staying awake and staying as far away from that evil, evil bed is the best solution.
The best path to that solution? Coffee. Sure, his self-destructive tendencies make him feel shitty, but they damn sure taste nice.
But, of course, his idiot adoptive siblings disagree with him. Dick (because he has some sort of metagene that allows him to intuitively sense specifically when Tim has and has not slept in a couple of days) had texted him earlier in the day, saying that he’s sending the demon brat over to strong arm him into a surender. God, familial politics are annoying. He really does not want Damian in his space right now. He really doesn’t want his apartment to be polluted by the little monster’s grubby hands and smelly breath. (Seriously, does he have to stick to a diet of fresh onions and brussel sprouts just because he’s a vegetarian?) He knows he’d almost immediately snap at the eleven year old, causing another one of their legendary Homeric-length arguments. Damian, however, seems to have thought ahead and texted him that he’s bringing a mediator; Jason. Tricky business, that.
It’s not as if he doesn’t like Jason. They get along perfectly well. Despite Jason trying to kill him multiple times two years ago, and nearly succeeding a couple of those times, the two of them have grown to trust each other, evident by a strange, erratic schedule of helping each other when need arises.
Their relationship is not really as brotherly as Tim’s with Dick, perhaps because Jason was dead during the time Tim was adopted by Bruce. Jason also technically isn’t really his brother anyways, as legally Jason Todd is dead, leaving their status as siblings, legally speaked, void.(He definitely doesn’t think of this fact often, totally doesn’t.) Regardless, they act as friendly acquaintances rather than brothers and have never seen each other in the same sort of familial light as they both see Dick. That reasoning, Tim hypothesises, is why Jason has developed a crush on him.
The word ‘crush’, in it usage to referring to Jason’s feelings about Tim, is probably inaccurate, an understatement. Tim likenes it to more of a light obsession. His reasoning for this; he had often noticed Jason following him; sometimes when he isn’t even on patrol or even occasionally in broad daylight. The number of times he’s seen a leather jacket or a distinctive motorcycle helmet out of the corner of his eye while he’s doing something entirely mundane, like stopping by his favorite Starbucks, exceeded at least ten. The times he’s heard a boot scrape on a nearby rooftop or glimpsed a smudge of red-colored movement while he is on patrol easily tripled that. His social media accounts, both personal and public, have a constant stream of likes and re-whatevers from Jason’s.
He has no clue why Jason’s fixated on him, save for the fact that he knows the older vigilante had a slightly addictive personality. Usually when he’s noticeably infatuated with something, like a book series or TV show, he’s interested for a couple of weeks before moving onto something else. However, that is how he acts with inanimate things; his attention has been on Tim for months. He doesn’t know if this is a special occurrence or if the older man’s affections are expressed similarly towards all of his romantic interests. He’s thought of asking Roy or Koriand'r if this is how he had acted with them, but he doesn’t know them as well as the older incarnations of ‘Robin’ do and really doesn't feel like worrying the two if this is out of character for Jason.
It’s not as if he doesn’t entirely reciprocate. He does, a bit. Jason is handsome and kind and the intense passion he has for everything is alluring. He almost likens his reciprocation to a child’s curiosity of fire; an interest in a danger he knows would consume him if he’s not careful. In fact, his mental image of Jason is often fire itself; a flame that burns intensely and sucks all the air out of the room, consuming everything in its path, scorching hot with fervor, a bright red tendril with the barest tint of emerald at its heart. The older man has a warmth that draw people to him, one he often knows Jason himself both detested and relished, as he is bit of an antisocial narcissist if Tim has to label it. He finds him fascinating, for lack of a better word.
However, he’s with someone. He’s dating Kon, has been for almost a year and a half. It’s long distance, with himself being in Gotham and the other being across the country in San Francisco with the Titans, but it’s good. They’re…. Good together. Kon is a much safer bet than Jason, who’s slightly unstable, even explosive at times. Kon is softer, still angry, but not as dangerous. With him, he’s not playing with fire.
Tim looks at the clock. It’s a quarter until seven p.m., the time his vastly underqualified caretakers are arriving. He stands up from the couch, stretches. Sniffs a nearby mug, concludes it’s mostly clean before walking to the kitchen to refill it with the half-pot of coffee being kept hot by his coffee maker. He takes a sip and leans against the counter, casually eying the clandestine surveillance camera in the corner of the room.
There are similar cameras all throughout the apartment save for the bathrooms. Even though it’s technically a safe house and not the luxury penthouse he owns that acts as his official home, he takes the security of the average apartment he’s staying at seriously. So does Barbara, who helped him install them, though he feels she has a more sibling-like intention of keeping an eye on him in mind. In fact, he hypothesizes that she’s Dick’s informant of his sleeping habits.
A knock on the door, following with another. Then a hard, quick flurry of three more. He sighs and leaves the kitchen, turning the sharp corner of the wall and walking to the thick wooden door situated in the middle of one of the living room’s walls. Looking through the peephole, it’s exactly who he expected. He opens the door and leans on it, looking at his two visitors with a sarcastic expression. He croaks out half an unintelligible word before clearing his voice and says, “Can I help you?”
“Drake,” says the shorter of the pair, referring to Tim by his last name. “You know why I’m here.”
He feigns a confused expression, complete with knit eyebrows. “Oh, whatever could you mean.”
“Don’t be an imbecile,” Damian says. “Invite us in.”
“Why would I do that? Inviting strangers into your home is pretty dangerous.”
The younger tsks, shoving around Tim and walks into his apartment with an observant eye; the younger boy has never been to this safe house. He gazes around the room with a snobbish expression, scowls and dramatically scoffs at the lack of decor. Tim rolls his eyes, willing himself to not let the eleven year old goad him into a screaming match, before he turns back to his other guest. Jason. He forces himself not to audibly inhale. Jason grins at him before saying, “Hey.”
Tim relaxes his involuntarily tense shoulders and softly exhales. “Hey Jay,” he says.
His guest’s smile widens slightly. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” says Tim, moving from his position blocking the doorway.
He walks in, looks around with much less interest than Damian. Tim has no doubt that Jason’s been in his safe house before, despite never having had invited him until now. He does security cameras after all. Though he should probably be more disturbed by the fact that Jason had broken into his apartment, he wasn’t. Having the world’s greatest detective as a mentor led you to be more comfortable with that type of thing. And Jason’s never done anything but help himself to something in the fridge, read a book on his couch, fold his clean clothes, etc. He has no doubt in his mind that both Stephanie and Dick have broken into his various apartments before as well.
Damian walks from where he’s in the living room to the kitchen. Tim could practically hear the younger’s eyes roll as he shuts the front door. He sees his other guest, the one his brain insists is not an intruder like his companion, stand awkwardly in front of the couch with his hands in his jacket pockets. Tim willfully ignores him for the time being, his heart doing nervous gymnastics that rival Dick’s as he steers himself into the kitchen.
The hobgoblin is sniffing the air in the center of the room as he enters. Tim adopts a confused expression that was much more candid than the one from his intruder’s entrance. “What’re you doing?”
“Shut up Drake, I’m working,” says Damian. Not long after, the younger makes eye contact with him and squints in a accusatory way. “You’re fucked, Drake,” he says sharply, before he turns and continued to sniff as he walked toward the counter.
Tim snorts. “You look like a pig searching for truffles.”
The younger ignores him as he continues toward the counter, stops, and says, “Ah ha!”
“What’d you find Sherlock Holmes?”
“You’ve been drinking coffee!”
“How out of character of me,” he replys dryly.
“You know Dick’s banned it after six o’clock,” says the younger, pulling out his phone.
“What’re gonna do, tell on me?” Tim leans against the fridge and crosses his arms.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Drake,” he says as he begins to furiously type.
Tim rolls his eyes, but internally he’s anxious. Well, more anxious than usual. He knows telling Dick won’t do anything but warrant a lecture from the older man when he returns to Gotham. He’s been through countless of them to already mentally predict what is going to be said. Despite knowing this, he never likes getting Dick upset enough for that to happen. Especially since it reminds him of Bruce’s lectures.
Damian finishes his text and puts away his phone. “You’re screwed.”
Tim almost growls in the back of his throat. This twerp is so annoying. “Why do you have to try and butt into everything?”
Damian tuts and leans against the counter opposite of him. “Maybe when you start to act your age and take care of yourself I won’t be asked to take that responsibility for you.”
Tim can almost feel the steam blowing its way out of his ears. He grits his teeth, biting back something that’ll make this stewing argument worse.
Seeming to hear the commotion, Jason walks in from the other room. “Sounds like my assistance is needed.”
Damian just rolls his eyes and brakes the eye contact they’ve been sharply holding.
Jason crosses the room and leans his back against the sink, essentially standing between the two younger boys. “You two good? Or do I need to play human barrier for a while?”
Tim huffs out a breath and puts his arms to his sides, his hands closed into fists. “I’m fine.”
“As am I.” Damian swipes his short bangs from his forehead and scratches it absentmindedly as he acts disinterested in his usual self-important demeanor.
“Anyways,” says Jason, “Back to the subject of our visit.” He turns to Tim. “You sleep any this week?”
Tim’s scowl softens as he flicks his gaze from Damian to the older man. “Yeah.”
Jason nods slowly, drumming his fingers against his thigh as he holds his stare on Tim. If he tried to convince himself, he could almost see a glint of that same look Dick gets when he sees a box of cereal in his eyes. Possessiveness. It conveys a clear message for Tim; just looking at him makes that fire in Jason grow hotter. He should shudder, if he knows any better.
Damian speaks next. “How many hours?”
He snaps his gaze from Jason to the younger vigilante, perhaps a bit too quickly. “What?”
“How many hours did you sleep this week,” Damian asks, looking at his fingernails. It’s obvious, though the younger is clearly trying to conceal it, that he felt awkward during the long exchange of looks between the older two in the room and is trying to break the ice.
“Uh,” Tim says as he thinks back, trying to organize his memories. There’s no use in lying, Damian can tell from his training. “Four, maybe five.”
Damian scoffs, still not making eye contact. “Keep off the coffee the rest of this week and I’ll call off Grayson.”
Tim almost smiles in the rare gratitude from his younger brother. Almost. Instead, he simply says, “Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Damian says, standing up straight as he leans off the countertop. “I’m going to the library, Todd. Either join me or walk home.”
Jason nods. “I’ll walk. Not too far from here.”
“I’ll inform Bordeaux,” Damian says, turning and leaving the kitchen. A moment later, the front door audibly shuts.
Tim clears his throat. “So. Coffee?”
Jason snorts.
“Right. Lay off the coffee.” He sneaks a look at the security camera. “Um. Tea then?”
The amused expression stays on the older man’s face. “D’you have tea?”
“No clue.” He walks across the kitchen to the counter Damian had been leaning against and reaches for the cabinet door above, opens it, and peers inside. There is some tea, a sample box of various herbal bags of it that he hasn’t opened yet, but it’s on the top shelf. He starts to climb on the counter when he feels a presence behind him.
“Here,” says Jason, reaching over the younger as he grabs the small box, his chest pressing against Tim’s back as he does so.
Tim can feel the air sucked out of him as he feels the older’s wider form press against him. Instead of stepping back, the older man brings the box of tea down from the top shelf and places it into the younger’s hands. Tim can feel his face grow hot as fuck. He spins around in the tight quarters between Jason and the counter, stepping back onto the floor from his seated position on top of the false granite countertop, and looks up at the other.
Jason’s staring right back at him. He can feel the older man’s breath on his forehead. He gulps as Jason’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, the other at his lower back. Tim quickly glances at his lips, then back to his eyes, unsure.
Jason sees the glance and pounces, his lips connecting with Tim’s. The kiss is a desperate gnashing of teeth, an explicit release of strong pent up feelings. Tim’s bony ass is pushed against the counter’s edge and a low moan slips out of his clenched throat, though he isn’t sure it it’s from the pain of his ass or the pleasure of the fierce kiss. Jason’s hands are all over him, his back, his hips, his shoulders, the back of his head, and Tim swears he’s getting vertigo at the suddenness of the situation.
To deny it was something he’s wanted, has thought about, would be a straight up lie. But, still, he feels unsure and isn’t sure why. (He mentally snorts; being unsure why he was unsure was almost hilarious to him, though the snogging he was currently doing might be inhibiting his already shitty sense of humor.)
I should stop, he thinks. I should stop. There’s a reason why I need to stop. What is it? He genuinely can’t remember for a second, too caught up in the way Jason nibbles at his bottom lip, before it hits him suddenly. I have a boyfriend.
Tim pulls back then, half-shut eyes snapping open, and says, “Jason, I can’t.”
Jason tries to lean in again, his pupils blown up in a way that makes him look so out of it, but Tim puts a gentle hand on the other’s chest and stops him. Jason’s eyebrows knit, confusion mixing in his eyes with that blown out lust-filled look he had not a moment ago.
“Kon, Jay. I’m dating Kon.”
Jason’s head slightly cocks to the side, like a bird. “What?” Tim gets out half a syllable of his reiteration before he sharply interrupts him. “No, I know about that. I know about you dating Supes’ clone, but…but why does that matter?”
“I’m- I’m dating him, Jason,” he says. The way Jason just rolls his eyes bristles him, enough for him to push the older man off him and walk a couple of steps away, his back away from the other.
“Why does it matter?” A almost-growl comes out of Jason’s mouth with the words and Tim turns to look at him with an expression as blank as an unpainted canvas.
“I’m dating Kon. It’d be cheating on him.”
“To what? Kiss me? It’s just a kiss,” he exclaims, his arms briefly up in the air in a gesture Tim can only think to describe as the physical equivalent of the noise ‘pfft’.
Tim looks at Jason with annoyance, a ‘don’t-play-dumb’ look. “That wasn’t just a kiss. You know what would’ve happened if I hadn’t stopped you.” The way he says ‘you’ rather than ‘himself’, as if he was entirely blaming Jason, stung him with a twinge of guilt, but he ignored it. Time to stop this. I can feel bad later.
Jason’s face visibly hardens, his fists clenching and his forearms shaking for a moment before he stills them. “So you don’t want me?”
Tim closes his mouth, licks his lips. “I…. I do. But….I’m dating Kon.”
Jason’s nostrils flare and his eyebrows angle themselves in anger faster than a bullet and he strides towards him. Tim almost flinches, fleetingly thinks ‘you played with fire, here comes the burn,’ but is surprised when Jason just walks past him, out of the kitchen. He follows him around the corner, stopping beside the coffee table at the side of the couch, watches as the older man turns the knob the door in a swift, jerking motion, before he says, “Wait. Jay.”
The glare he gets from him as he turns and looks at him almost makes him walk forward and kiss him as an apology, almost makes him invite him to stay, but instead he stands there staring as he wrestles with his thoughts. Jason stares at him, the glare softening for a brief moment before hardening again, and turns back around. He leaves without a word, slamming the door loudly behind him. Tim finally flinches.
• • •
ii.
The guilt was drowning him. He had been pacing for twenty minutes, unable to move on from his rejection of Jason. He was used to guilt, a constant companion in his brain, but sometimes it consumed him with anxiety. This feels like one of those times for him.
Jason probably hates him now, probably won’t talk to him ever again. He doesn’t want to lose Jason’s friendship; it’s something he deeply appreciates. It shouldn’t have ended like that. He should’ve explained more.
He needs to explain. The only way to do that was in person; if he does it over text or phone it just won’t be right. He needs to do it in person.
Tim picks up his phone, sends the text. If he comes back over, he’ll be able to explain. Jason won’t hate him. He just needs to explain.