Work Text:
1.
Their friendship was a highly unlikely one. Who knew the tough-as-nails underground boxer Jason would befriend a scrawny and deaf male ballerina?
Highly unlikely.
Jason didn’t keep friends. He just didn’t have time between running the home his drug-addled mother was too wasted to keep along with boxing and maintaining something resembling a job to keep food in the fridge, friends just never made the cut. But this ballerina was somehow different in a way that Jason had yet to pinpoint.
Nonetheless when said ballerina helped him out of a sticky situation in a Gotham alleyway and bandaged his cuts, Jason figured the kid wasn’t all that bad to keep around.
In the end, the ballerina really wasn’t all that bad nor was he hard to be around. The way he would smile at Jason, the soundless laugh he would give when Jason said something remarkably silly and similar things always seemed to perplex the older boy but it made sense all the same.
2.
In between everything else monopolizing his time, Jason found a couple seconds to learn sign language. When he tested the first few phrases he learned on the ballerina boy, the grin he got in return was encouragement enough to learn a little more.
In a couple weeks, he had the alphabet and a couple useful phrases mastered.
In a month, he could have short and easy conversations.
And the way the ballerina’s smile would grow wider each week he had something knew to show him kept Jason learning more and more.
For some strange reason.
3.
Three months into their friendship, Jason finally learned the ballerina boy’s name.
Timothy Drake.
Timothy gave him a look when Jason pointed to the name on the letter and signed, asking if it was his name. The ballerina laughed at him in that way that Jason not-so-secretly liked.
Of course, Tim signed back, in quick movements that were almost too fast for Jason to keep up with. What did you think my name was this whole time?
Jason chose not to answer that as he looked over the rest of the letter. Tim had been chosen for a callback for some audition he must have done.
I want you to come with me, Tim signed, again almost too fast for Jason. He only slowed down a little halfway through the sentence because Jason quickly interrupted with one of the most useful phrases he had ever learned in another language: please slow down.
Jason wasn’t sure he wanted to go to a ballet callback, but it was Tim. If scraping his sorry butt off the gravel of some alley wasn’t enough to justify going along with him to an event Jason was almost positive was a nerve-wreaking one, then Tim having gone to many of Jason’s matches as a silent cheerleader was.
Sure, Jason signed, I’ll be there.
4.
They wouldn’t let Jason into the audition room to watch Tim do his routine for the judges (and for the nth time since he agreed to go), so when Tim emerged from the room with a stony expression, he wasn’t sure what to say.
Then Tim broke out into this huge shit-eating grin and held up some paper that Jason assumed was a good thing.
You little shit, Jason was smiling now as well and Tim jumped to him, leaping into a hug and hanging off Jason’s shoulders for a second before letting him go.
I got it, Tim signed. His small hands were trembling and Jason gave in to the nagging urge to clasp onto them, just to still them. Tim gave him a shaky smile and went up onto his tiptoes to give him a little kiss.
Tim only just pressed his mouth to Jason’s when he jerked away, hands fluttering sorry and other apologies. Jason just laughed and said, “That’s ok,” and then remembered Tim couldn’t hear it.
Jason just shrugged it off. It was just a mistake and that was what he was going to continue to tell himself. Tim didn’t mean it. And the tingly feeling it got on his lips, in his heart as well as the fluttering sick feeling in his stomach was nothing. Maybe those eggs he had for breakfast had gone sour.
Let’s get some lunch, he signed before he took Tim’s small and still trembling hand in his and lead him out of the studio. I need to eat something before hitting the gym. My treat.
5.
Jason loved Tim.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened or when he found out, but it just was. One day, he just woke up and knew. But he hadn’t told anyone yet. Not his mother, not Tim. But life went on and he still saw Tim for breakfast every Sunday at 9 AM at the French Twist like clockwork. He picked up Tim outside the studio on Wednesday evenings for a late dinner at the only bistro still open.
Everything was normal.
And it bothered Jason.
He didn’t want it to be normal; he didn’t want normal. He wanted Tim. He wanted to hold Tim’s hand and not just when they crossed a street. He wanted to hold his hand whenever he wanted. He wanted to kiss Tim on the corner, at breakfast, and when he dropped him off somewhere. He wanted to get a little too touchy and get those weird glances from people as they walked by. He wanted to meet Tim’s parents at his boyfriend, not just his friend.
Jason thinks Tim might like him back. But after that “accidental kiss” after Tim’s huge audition, the ball was officially in Jason’s court. He’d have to do something about it.
And words were never Jason’s friend so he needed a plan.
6.
Jason didn’t have a plan.
He had something that resembled a plan, that was maybe the distant cousin of a plan, but it wasn’t a plan.
But it would have to do. The thing-that-resembled-a-plan-but-wasn’t-really was already rolling and out of Jason’s hands. He was already outside Tim’s home. He parked his bike on the curb before jogging up to the stoop, where he paused.
Jason took a deep breath.
Before he could take the couple of steps and knock on the door, it opened. A woman stood there, wearing a nice blouse and skirt combo. She had Tim’s black hair, his nose, and his chin. “You must be Jason,” she said, giving him a look-over. Jason wanted to say something, but he didn’t have a chance to before Tim appeared in the doorway.
He signed some things to his mother and suddenly Tim was there, in his nice clothes and smelling nice and Jason’s mind slowed further, if possible, and even more unexpectedly, Tim was next to him. Let’s go! He smiled and looped his arm through one of Jason’s.
The next time Jason’s brain decided to waken, they were on his bike, Tim’s arms securely wrapped around his middle and his front pressed to his back and Jason’s mind threatened to blank out again.
He had to admit, driving with Tim wasn’t the safest thing he had ever done. They however still managed to make it to the warehouse in one piece.
Jason let Tim off the bike first and used the chance to take a breath because Tim. And feelings.
He eventually got the feeling back in his legs and parked the bike. Are you ready? Tim signed, smiling at Jason as he clambered off the bike.
Jason gave a shaky smile. Just cheer for me, he returned, and I will be.
And he was. In the end, he got that detrimental hit in and won the match. Tim was the first one jumping and cheering. Jason climbed out of the ring and landed heavily on the cement slab that was the warehouse floor. You did it, Tim let out a breathless laugh and Jason grinned.
There was some blood and Jason was pretty sure one of the other guys’ glove cut his cheek but he didn’t really care.
It was now or never.
So, with that in mind, Jason scooped Tim up in his arms and gave him a sloppy kiss.
Tim stiffened in his grasp and Jason thought the worst. Maybe he completely misread everything? Shit.
Just in case, Jason broke the kiss earlier than he would have liked and tried to come up with some viable excuse. Maybe he could blame it on performance adrenaline.
But contrary to what he was preparing himself for, Tim smiled. It was one of those wide, toothy ones he gives sometimes that Jason thought was simply adorable. Jason was sure his brain short-circuited. Tim hugged Jason’s middle as tight at his arms could muster and reached for another kiss.
Jason was rather proud of himself. It only took him .3 seconds to realize what Tim wanted and why he had his mouth puckered up like that.