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It was just a safety precaution, plant some bugs over here, some over there. In and out. Simple. It wasn't anything personal, no matter what Jason thought, just–business.
Or, it would've been, had Tim not found the board tucked away in a corner full of photos of him. We're talking proper-stalker-murder-board, just resting peacefully against discoloured wallpaper. There were photos of him as Robin, himself, and even some undercover aliases. Newspaper clippings of his parents hostage situation, his mother's death, and subsequently his father's. A schedule of his usual patrol routes, as well as a more personal one, hung side by side.
There were notes, too. On a blurry photo of Steph sat a yellow post-it with the text gf? on it. There was one noting that Tim had gotten a haircut, another saying he had a new phone, and multiple pointing out changes to his suit.
Tim stared at the board. It hadn't been updated in a while, a little over a year he estimated, but the evidence put together with recent experiences were damning, to say the least. Jason had been acting strange, bordering on obsessive, but Tim had just accounted that to him trying to get a hold on social cues and how to function as a human being again. He had asked strange questions, some of them a bit invasive and awkward. He had asked Tim what he did during the day, where he spent his time, and who he spent it with.
All very normal questions to ask! But this was Jason asking them.
Jason, who had tried to kill him.
Jason, who had stalked him before doing so.
Jason, who hated his guts more than anyone.
Something clattered to the floor behind him, and Tim had his bō staff extended and stood in a protective stance in seconds.
"Oh," he breathed out in relief and dropped his stance. "It's just you." he put his staff away and rolled his shoulders, at ease.
Jason stood frozen before him, eyes flicking between Tim and his stalker board.
He found his footing quick enough, however, and let out a scoff. "Just me? I'll have you know, I could take you down in a heartbeat, babybird."
Tim rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try."
Jason drew nearer, a predatory look spreading over his face, until he saw the board behind Tim and stopped short.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a tired sigh. "Look—"
Before he could stumble over his words and make this whole thing even more embarrassing for himself, Tim decided to just cut to the chase. After all, he had other places to bug.
"So… you're in love with me?"
"What." It wasn't a question as much as it was an expression of pure disbelief. Had Tim actually seen the board Jason made with plans on how to murder the kid and drawn the conclusion that, 'oh yeah, this man wants me so bad it makes him do arts and crafts'?
"You don't have to be embarrassed about it, I mean it's kind of embarrassing it took me this long to figure it out—" he continued, not noticing Jason's stunned expression. "You know, in retrospect, it makes a lot of sense…"
Tim's voice was drowned out by Jason's increasingly spiraling thoughts. It made sense? It made sense to Tim that Jason was apparently in love with him. Which he hadn't known, by the way, so thanks for that riveting information, Timmers. He hasn't been in love with someone since… ever? He's had crushes, sure, he would always have heart-eyes for Donna Troy and Roy. But in love? The closest he'd been to that had been with Artemis, but they had eventually gotten to the point of siblingship and referring to her as his sister had felt more right than anything.
So, yeah, being in love with Tim Drake to the point of making a stalker collage of him did not make sense, thank you very much.
"It's actually kind of cute," Tim's huff broke through his musings. "In a fucked up way, of course, I mean you did try to kill me, which was unfortunately a formative moment for me." he continued, and Jason continued to stare in disbelief.
"A formative moment?" he managed to croak out, throat suddenly very dry.
Tim looked sheepish, but didn't shy away from the question. "Yeah, I learned a lot about myself that day."
The silence stretched thin, but Jason couldn't speak even if he knew what to say, because what the fuck? Him almost killing Tim, slicing his throat, had been a formative moment?
Tim cleared his throat. "Anyway, that's more of a third date kind of conversation."
Third date? Actually, what the hell was going on? Jason couldn't remember taking a hit to the head recently, but it was the only thing that could explain why Tim was in his old, abandoned safe house, looking at Jason's murder board of him, and talking about third dates. They hadn't even been on a first date! Which, was that supposed to happen? Jason wasn't in love with Tim. He told the younger man so, to which he only received a head tilt and incredulous look in return.
"Really? Jason, come on," Tim cocked his hip and started counting on his fingers. "You've been overly interested in my personal life," tick. "You follow me on patrols—yes I've noticed," tick. "You have a 60×80 sized collage of me with notes on my hair and clothes," tick. "So, yeah, the evidence says otherwise."
Okay, Jason can admit that it doesn't look good. Can even admit that it looks like he's two seconds away from getting down on one knee and begging Tim to elope with him. But the board is old, and from a time when he was actively hunting the other man.
The more recent stuff… It isn't that strange to be curious about the bats and the birds when you've been one yourself, Jason argues. Granted, he hadn't asked the others the same questions, and he hadn't paid them as much attention as Tim, but in his defense, old habits die hard.
"But, if I'm being honest," Tim continued, still completely unaware of Jason's internal conflict. "I'm not really there yet," Tim said tentatively, but hurried to continue once he saw the look on Jason's face, wanting to erase the frown that settled there. "But you're definitely my type! So it shouldn't take me long to get there, knowing me. I get attached quick. Besides, we already know the nitty gritty of each others' pasts so there's no need to hide the metaphorical skeletons in the closet—"
As Tim rambled on, Jason could feel his cheeks straining to hide a smile. The way the babybird had immediately started ensuring Jason that this, this thing, was very much in the realm of possibilities, just because the idea of it not working out had made Jason sad was—
Oh.
Okay.
Shit. FUCK! The babybird had a point. How long had this been going on? How long had he harboured feelings for Tim without even fucking realising?
This might be the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to Jason. Not only had he evidently fallen in love without noticing, but the person he fell in love with had been the one to tell him he had fallen in love. He was tempted to ask a Super to throw him into the nearest black hole, but even he could recognise the dramatics of it. Still, the idea stayed with him for a minute or two.
"Anyway, I'm not really into the whole dinner and a movie thing, but maybe we could go to a seedy pub somewhere and play some pool?" Tim was planning their first date. Jason had just found out he loves Tim and Tim is planning their first date. Was emotional whiplashes a thing? Because he was going to get one at this rate. "How doees—" Tim dragged the word out while looking through his phone, lip between his teeth and a slight furrow between his brows. Jason wanted to replace Tim's teeth with his own.
God damn it. This revelation was going to rocket launch him into the mind of a hormonal teenager, wasn't it?
"Thursday, 5PM sound?" Tim continued. "I'll let you pick the place, I think you know Gotham's pub scene better."
Never in his life had he agreed to something quicker.