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Jason startles, tossing his bag to the side. “When did you get here?”
Tim sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Couple hours. Bernard’s mad at me again.”
Jason snorts. “Figures,” he says, pulling his torn shirt over his head and tossing into the hamper. “What did you do this time?”
“Nothing,” Tim says, “That’s the problem.”
Jason hums as he undoes his belt buckle, kicking his jeans off, reaching for a pair of pajama bottoms.
“I could kill him for you, you know,” Jason says with a smile, as he walks into the adjoining bathroom to brush his teeth.
Tim groans. “You say that every time.”
“And I mean it every time. Tim— a civilian boyfriend? What the hell were you thinking?”
Tim buries his face. “That I wanted something normal,” he says, voice muffled into Jason’s pillow.
Jason’s shoulder’s shake, stifling a laugh while he brushes. He spits into the sink.
“Careful what you wish for, Timbelina. You just might get it. Angry boyfriend is pretty par for the course. How is normal treating you so far?”
“I just thought—“ Tim trails off, unable to finish the thought.
“You’d feel different, playing house?” Jason supplies, not unkindly. Coming back to stand at the foot of his own bed.
“He wants… more.”
Jason scoffs. “Yeah? Who doesn’t?”
“No,” Tim says, “He’s right. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me.”
Jason watches him, almost wary.
“What’s so hard for you? Putting out?”
Tim presses his lips together, like he’s already regretting opening his mouth.
“…he wants me to be there,” Tim says finally. “All the time. Not physically, just—” he gestures vaguely, “—present. Available. Normal. Real.”
Jason comes to the side of the bed. Leans down. Fuck, this was wrong. “You seem pretty real to me?”
Tim huffs a quiet breath, staring up at Jason from underneath his lashes, not quite a laugh. “That’s not what he meant.”
Jason tugs his chin up, craning his neck back, watches as Tim’s pupils bloom a little at the gesture. How is Bernie so bad at this? Jason wonders to himself. It was so easy to force Tim back into his body with a little direction. He was basically begging for it.
“I see you,” Jason says, pressing a quick kiss to Tim’s lips, “You’re right there.” Another. “You haven’t gone anywhere.” Another, longer this time. “What’s his problem?”
He pulls back and crouches to his knees, cupping Tim’s face in his hands. The other man looked almost drunk, expression painfully open and ready wanting and pressed between Jason’s fingers.
“I don’t know,” Tim says softly, overwhelmed, so heartbreakingly sincere Jason feels pricks at the corner of his eyes.
“I don’t know either,” Jason admits, “you’re so easy. I’m kind of embarrassed for him.”
Tim snorts, breaking the tension of the moment. “I’m not easy,” he says laughing, “I wish I was.”
“You’re so fucking easy, dude.” Jason says, misplaced earnestness all over his face. He stands, ignoring the creak in his knees that reminds him he is in fact older than Tim.
Tim’s laugh lingers for a second—bright, a little breathless as Jason crawls into bed beside him.
“Am not,” Tim insists, softer now, like he’s trying to recover the joke. “You’re just—”
He gestures vaguely, as Jason gets comfortable next to him.
“Impossibly handsome?” Jason supplies, rolling onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look at him properly. “The greatest lover in the known galaxy?”
“A gigantic asshole.”
Jason grins, quick and sharp. “Yeah, that too.”
Tim huffs, but there’s no bite to it. He’s still half-curled into the pillow, hair a mess, eyes a little too soft.
“I’m not easy I just—“ He trails off.
Jason tilts his head. “Just what.”
Tim swallows.
“Just don’t—” he frowns, trying to find it. “I don’t do this with people I don’t—” He stops himself.
Too late.
Jason’s eyes sharpen. “You don’t do this with people you don’t what,” he presses.
Tim looks away. “…trust? I guess?”
Jason’s expression darkens. “You should not trust me.”
“I know,” Tim muses. “And yet.”
“And yet??”
Something changes in Tim’s face. “And yet.” He says, almost resolute, crawling over to sit in Jason’s lap.
Jason’s hands go to Tim’s waist, hesitating like he hasn’t decided whether to stop him or steady him.
Tim settles into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like this was always where he was going. Knees on either side, weight careful but certain, eyes still fixed on him in that same open, unguarded way.
Jason’s hands settle, and then tighten.
“I’m not gonna fuck you like your boyfriend fucks you. I’m not scared of you.” Jason says, mean.
Tim just folds into him. His forehead presses briefly against Jason’s shoulder, breath hitching out in something that isn’t quite a laugh and isn’t quite a sigh either.
“Oh,” Tim breathes. Relief. Actual, visible relief.
Jason goes still again, hands tightening instinctively at his waist, like he didn’t expect that reaction— like he doesn’t know what to do with it now that he has it.
“Oh,” Tim breathes again, quieter this time, like he’s confirming it to himself. “Okay.”
Jason’s grip tightens before he can stop it.
“…okay?” he echoes, a little thrown.
Tim lifts his head just enough to look at him, eyes still soft, still there— present in a way that feels almost fragile. He looks almost happy.
“Yeah,” Tim says. “That’s— better. Way better. Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me I’m the last person in the world you wanted to fuck. God, anything besides—“
Jason kisses him. Anything to make him stop.
Tim makes a small, startled sound against his mouth, the rest of the sentence dissolving into it. His hands come up automatically, catching at Jason’s chest, like he needs something to hold onto now that the ground’s shifted.
Tim’s phone buzzes on the nightstand.
“I swear to god if you answer that,” Jason says, voice hoarse.
“It might be Bruce. An emergency—“
“If it were Bruce mine would be going off too—“
“It’s him.” Jason doesn’t have to ask who him is.
“Don’t answer it.”
Tim laughs. “I don’t want to answer it.”
“Then don’t,” he says, too quick, like if he says it fast enough it won’t sound like a request.
The phone buzzes again.
Tim’s hand tightens on Jason’s chest, but his eyes flick—just for a second—toward the nightstand.
“It’s just going to keep ringing.” There’s an ask in Tim’s eyes.
“Oh for the love of—“ Jason reaches over grabs his cell. “Tim can’t come to the phone at the moment he’s too busy choking on my fat hog. Leave a message.” And he hangs up.
There’s a beat of silence— and then Tim just breaks.
He slides out of Jason’s lap, half-collapsing onto the mattress, shoulders shaking, laughter spilling out of him in these sharp, helpless bursts like he physically can’t hold it in.
“Oh my god—” Tim wheezes, pressing a hand to his face. “Oh my god, you did not just—”
Jason tosses the phone back onto the nightstand. “There. Solved.”
“That is not solving the problem,” Tim says, still laughing, voice hitching. “That is—oh my god, that is so much worse—”
Jason shrugs, flopping back against the pillows like he didn’t just escalate things catastrophically. “He’ll stop calling.”
Tim turns his head to look at him, eyes bright, a little wild, still caught somewhere between hysterical and relieved.
“He is absolutely not going to stop calling,” Tim says.
“Okay,” Jason says. “Then he’ll be mad.”
“He’s already mad!”
“Great!” Jason replies. “Then nothing’s changed. You’re welcome!”
Tim stares at him for a second— and then laughs again, softer this time, like it’s tapering off but hasn’t quite left his system yet.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says, shaking his head.
Jason snorts. “You keep saying that.”
“Because you keep proving it,” Tim shoots back, though there’s no bite to it. Not anymore.
The room settles.
The phone stays silent.
Tim exhales, “…that was really bad,” he says finally, smile still on his lips.
“Yeah,” Jason agrees easily, biting his lip. “Sorry.”
Tim turns his head, looking back at him, something softer threading back in now that the noise is gone.
“…thank you,” he adds, quieter.
Jason frowns slightly. “For what?”
Tim shrugs, small. “For not making me decide.”
Jason’s expression shifts— just a flicker. “You— you already decided.”
Tim shifts, inching back closer— crawls into the space at Jason’s side. “…you’re still a gigantic asshole,” he adds, softer now.
Jason smirks, just a little. “Yeah?”
Tim tugs him down. “Yeah.”