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"What's wrong?" is how Jason answers the phone, and Tim thinks that's kind of telling. It's hard to make friends when you're legally dead, after all.
"Hey. Yeah. Actually, I just need an extremely last minute date to Bruce's charity gala," he says bluntly, because there's not really a delicate way to ask that kind of question of your... not-brother
"..."
"Jason?" Tim asks, hesitant, because the call hasn't disconnected but the other end of the line is dead silent. He hopes Jason doesn't beat him up for this.
"..." is the response, and yep, Jason is probably on his way to Tim's apartment to beat him up for this.
"Um," Tim says into the line, because he doesn't have anything to say and this is really awkward and he should probably hang up right now-
"You need a date?" Jason asks; Tim can't tell anything from his voice except that it's a little strained. His brain cheerfully supplies him with the fact that this is how barely-suppressed homicidal rage sounds.
"Well. Yeah," Tim responds, and his voice is definitely betraying how nervous he is because this was a mistake and Jason can probably smell his fear through the other end of the line. Stephanie Brown suddenly crosses his mind. She would be an amazing fake-date. Why didn't he ask Stephanie Brown? Or Cass? Why is he so stupid?
"And you. Picked me?" Jason's response shakes Tim out of his reverie. The older man doesn't sound angry, just... disoriented, which Tim takes as a good sign.
"Well, I wouldn't have bothered you, except I-"
"It's fine," Jason says, abruptly, followed by what Tim thinks is a very, very quiet swear. Weird.
"So. Can you. Come?" it's silent for a moment more, and then another nearly silent maybe-swear from Jason, and then, "Yeah. Sure."
Tim's shocked.
"What time is it, what is it for, what color should I wear? You've gotta give me some details," Jason prompts, and then almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and do you want green or blue contacts?"
Right. Contacts, because Jason's eyes are glassy and faded and. Dead.
"Um. I'm wearing a grey suit? You can wear whatever, it doesn't really matter?" Tim is a little confused, because asking for colors is kind of. Like, committed? Invested, for Jason. Then again, he hasn't seen Jason outside of missions and 2:00 AM first aid in God knows how long, so he doesn't really have a basis for how this is going to go.
"Green eyes, I guess," Tim continues, "just to avoid a scene with Damian about how you're 'not really Bruce's son' or whatever-"
"You think the color of my eyes is going to keep him pitching a fit?" Jason jibes, and yeah, Damian's going to bitch at him about this for weeks, but that's better than having to deal with a ton of rich people (most of whom are way too old for him) trying to sleep with him. It's not like Damian bitching at him is anything out of the ordinary, anyways.
"Well, it'll help. The gala is for a conservation society-"
"Conservation! How much do you wanna bet Bruce is paying Pamela back for a favor?" and Tim laughs like a dork because he'd forgotten how funny Jason is, how charming and that train of thought is going to stop right there thanks-
"Replacement?" Jason asks, and Tim shakes his head. He can't believe himself. Stephanie Brown's voice comes to him, speaking words of wisdom: Way to go, asking your legally dead step-brother who you were in love with for several years who also happens to be maybe a little extremely hot on a date. Nice one.
"I'm fine," Tim says, but he's so not, because this is about to be a disaster, but he can't back out now. "It's at seven; I'll come pick you up-"
"Nah," Jason interrupts. Tim holds his breath, because right now he's hoping feverishly that Jason has changed his mind and they can forget about this entirely.
"I'll pick you up. Still at that penthouse on 42nd?"
Dammit. Say no, Tim, establish that this is just a ruse, eliminate the possibility of a motorcycle ride, this is not a-
"Yeah."
Dammit.
"Great. See you at seven." The other line goes dead, and Tim throws his phone at the wall and groans.
"What have I done?" he asks the ceiling meekly, flopping onto the floor. He so has enough time to wallow before he gets dressed.
Wait. He'd told Jason to wear whatever he wanted to, but he hadn't specified male attire. Jason has crashed a party in drag before, Tim was there, and it was actually very convincing. Damian will really, actually try to kill both of them if Jason tries a stunt like that, and some secret prank would explain how freakishly nice Jason was during the conversation. Tim rolls over and crawls across the floor to his phone, regretting his earlier frustrated actions. He dials Jason's number.
"Yeah?" Jason asks.
"Don't wear a dress, please," Tim says, a little more confidently than their earlier conversation. There's a pause, then
"Well, since you said please," Jason responds jokingly, and Tim's relieved. Of course, Jason might show up in a dress anyways just to spite him, but he's probably not going to. He's been surprisingly compliant, lately.
"Alright," Tim says, after a slightly awkward silence. He realizes that secretly lame Jason hasn't thought of a cool, slightly dismissive way to end the conversation, so they're both just sitting there with nothing to really say to each other. Tim isn't good at goodbyes. They're more like... badbyes.
He feels like Dick. This is awful.
"Well, I'm going to. Go. Get dressed," he tries, sounding totally effortless and confident. Tim mentally slaps himself. Jason laughs, although it's not vicious. He's teasing Tim.
It's weird. This conversation has, apparently, profoundly impacted their previously cold, slightly antagonistic relationship. Seriously, it's just a date, and now Jason like doesn't hate him and it's just weird.
"You do that, Babybird. Wouldn't want you showing up naked, would we?" Jason asks, and Tim balks because that was... flirtatious, Jason's been flirtatious this entire exchange and he hadn't even noticed and he feels really uncomfortable even thinking that.
"Yeah. Bye," he says, and abruptly hangs up.
Smooth.