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The sun is rising over Gotham, light spilling through the space between gargoyles and skyscrapers to paint their rooftop in shades of gold.
It highlights the angles of Jason’s face: the sharp line of his jaw, his furrowed brow. They’re up here as civilians, no masks to hide their features, and with the way the light brightens his eyes…
“You’re beautiful,” Tim says, and Jason snorts.
“Okay, it’s definitely past your bedtime.”
“No, you are,” he insists. “You’re just—you’re gorgeous.”
“Yeah, I know,” Jason says, without a hint of arrogance. “But spontaneous declarations of—”
“It wasn’t spontaneous,” Tim says.
“Really.” Jason’s (stunning) expression is deeply skeptical. “You dragged me up to the roof at sunrise to tell me I’m beautiful?”
“No,” Tim says, and drops to one knee. “I dragged you up to the roof at sunrise to ask you to marry me.”
Jason chokes.
“I just got a little distracted by how beautiful you are,” he continues, “which I’m pretty sure would happen to anyone, so.” He shrugs. “Sorry. Anyway: Jason Todd, will you—wait, crap, hold on.”
For one horrible moment, he’s afraid he forgot the ring…but no, there it is, right in his pocket where it belongs. Just a simple titanium ring, plain but durable, in an unassuming black velvet box. If Tim added Red Hood’s logo to the box in a barely-detectable navy blue pattern, that’s his own business.
“Okay, sorry again,” he says, and presents the ring to a frozen, silent Jason. “Jason Todd, will you marry me?”
Jason drags in a ragged breath. “Is this a joke?”
“…No?” Tim’s getting a little worried. “Do you want it to be a joke?”
Jason more collapses to his knees than deliberately gets down on them, but what’s important is that they’re on the same level (height difference aside), making it easy for him to drag Tim into a kiss. A desperate kiss, almost reminiscent of the one he gave Tim that one time everyone spent three days thinking he was dead. All passion and demand, paired with a tight grip on his jaw Tim can’t hope (or want) to escape.
It’s—it’s—
“Yeah,” Jason gasps, ripping away from him. “Yeah, yes, I’ll marry you.”
Tim nearly melts in relief. “Oh thank fuck.”
Jason laughs. “Wow, you’re really nailing this romantic proposal thing.”
“You worried me,” Tim defends. “I thought it was a sure yes, but then you were just standing there and staring and asking if it was a joke—”
“Sorry.” Jason kisses him again, gentler this time. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Tim says. “Put on the ring please.”
Jason does, laughing under his breath. It’s a perfect fit, of course. “What’s it do?”
“Do?” Tim asks. “It’s an engagement ring.”
His fiancé—fiancé!—stares him down.
“…That monitors your heart rate and will send me an alert if it drops below or rises above a set average range,” Tim admits.
“Thought so,” Jason says, studying it smugly. “Got a tracker in it?”
“No, that felt a little…” Tim grimaces, searching for a way to explain it.
“Kinda skeevy, yeah?” Jason asks.
“Just a little.” It would be useful, of course, but just a bit too much like something an abusive partner would do. Tim likes to make sure Jason is safe, but there’s a difference between making sure of someone’s safety and monitoring and controlling them.
And Tim wanted the ring—the engagement—to be…beautiful. Something to celebrate. Not just another tool or gadget to aid in their nightlives.
He thinks it worked, because Jason—
Jason’s still looking at the ring, smiling just a little, looking so quietly happy that Tim just has to kiss him again. He makes it the kind of kiss Jason likes best: slow and deep, not aiming to get anywhere, just enjoying being together, having the freedom to savor one another.
It lasts for a while, the way these kisses always do. One kiss becomes two becomes a slow, languid makeout session, until Tim’s knees are aching from the grit of the rooftop. The rest of him is aching, too, longing for more of Jason’s touch—for bare skin and their bed.
And Jason must be feeling the same, because after breaking the final kiss, he rests his forehead against Tim’s and says, “Let’s take this inside.”
“Please,” Tim agrees.
Jason stands first and pulls Tim easily after him, steering him towards the access door with an arm around his shoulders.
“You get a ring for yourself, too?” he asks as they go.
Should he have? “No.”
Jason tsks. “Gonna have to fix that.”
He should have.
“I guess me monitoring your heart rate when you can’t monitor mine is a little unfair,” he muses. “I’m sorry—”
“Not that,” Jason says. “I mean, yeah, it is, but…” He makes a show of using his left hand to open the door, deliberately flashing the ring. “How’re people supposed to know you’re taken if you’re not wearing my ring?”
Something about his low voice saying those words—my ring—makes Tim shiver. Admittedly, Jason’s possessiveness has been something of a kink for him for years now, but…he doesn’t think it’s that. It’s more…
It’s real. Official. Proof: Jason wearing his ring, and him wearing Jason’s, because they’re engaged and they’re going to get married. It’s been a hell of an evolution from the hate sex they started with, nearly four full years ago now. The ring is tangible evidence of how far they’ve come and where they’re going. That they’re permanent.
Tim shivers again.
“I’ll get a ring,” he says.
“Nah,” Jason says. “I’ll get one for you.” He tightens the arm around Tim’s shoulders, a brief but affectionate hug. “’S how it’s supposed to work, right?”
Tim can’t stop smiling. “Right.”
The sun has fully risen now, and their decidedly not east-facing apartment is flooded with light when they let themselves into it. Tim’s never been one for symbolism (he leaves that to Jason, adorable literature nerd that he is), but something about it—
Something about walking into their shared space and finding it full of sunlight, after they’ve agreed to this new path they’re going to take together—
It hits Tim, hard. Suddenly, he has to blink back tears.
“I love you,” he says, and turns into Jason’s chest to hug him. “So much.”
“I love you, too.” Jason kisses the top of his head and hugs him back, arms strong and solid and just as reassuring as they’ve always been.
Tim’s a vigilante and a hero in his own right. He doesn’t need to be protected. But he does need to feel safe, and Jason—Jason gives him that. Not just in the field and against enemies, but here. In their apartment, in their normal life.
Tim four years ago could never have dreamed of proposing to anyone.
Tim today knew that even if Jason said no, he wouldn’t be cruel about it. That he wouldn’t use it to hurt Tim.
He trusts Jason, and loves him, and Jason loves and trusts him right back. This, their life together, it’s—
“Breakfast, then bed?” Jason suggests.
“Perfect,” Tim says, and kisses him one more time.