Work Text:
The first thing Jason notices is that his head pounds. There’s a distinct throbbing in time with his heartbeat when he tries to shift so he buries his face in his pillow and groans. What did he do last night? The fact that he can’t quite recall is a major red flag. Did Roy convince him to go out drinking again? That would explain the headache at least.
Jesus. He’s never touching alcohol again.
Jason lets himself lay there for a few moments, letting himself adjust to the pain as best he can before rolling onto his back. He keeps his eyes shut and breathes carefully through his nose.
He needs to get up and drink a bucket of water and take a handful of aspirin and then he can go back to bed. He just has to work himself to actually sitting up first.
Someone sniffs next to him and then there’s an arm curling around his and a head coming to rest on his shoulder.
Holy shit.
Did he bring someone home last night?
He must have, it’s the only explanation.
So.
Roy took him out last night where he proceeded to get blackout drunk and get laid. Except he doesn’t even remember Roy coming to town. And he doesn’t remember any of yesterday.
His head pounds again and Jason decides to look further into his missing memory when he can form a single coherent thought without wanting to claw his own frontal lobe out.
Jason pries his eyes open and the soft morning light filtering in through his shades stabs directly into his corneas.
This isn’t his bedroom.
Okay.
So Roy came to town, Jason got blackout drunk, and someone took him home. Alright. That’s fine. As long as his mystery partner has Excedrin everything is still fine.
He glances down at the form draped against his side.
A guy, oversized t-shirt falling off one shoulder, clings to his arm. A mop of black hair covers the boy’s face but from what Jason can see of his body, the dude is hot. Score one for Jason. He might have the world's worst hangover, but at least he managed to snag a hot hookup. Maybe if the guy isn’t insufferable they could get coffee later or something.
The boy shifts again and tries to meld his face with Jason’s bicep.
“Jaaay,” he whines, “it’s too early. I can hear you thinking, go back to sleep.” He actually reaches up and covers Jason’s eyes with his hand. “Shhhhh,” he says, “sleep.”
Jason can feel himself smiling. He’s charmed despite his raging headache. “Sorry, babe,” Jason says, “I’ve got a killer hangover. Got any aspirin?"
The boy shoots up to rest on his arms, hovering slightly over Jason. “Babe?” He asks incredulously, “since when do you— also when did you have time to drink last night? Jesus, Jason.”
Jason can’t breathe.
The boy is looking down at him, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes the brightest blue he’s ever seen. His eyes are nearly glowing and the pupils have a strange squareness to them.
That’s a demon.
He subconsciously reaches for the All-Blades, they appear in his hands and the demon starts, falling backwards off the bed.
“What the fuck, Jason?” The demon’s eyes are definitely glowing now, and Jason can make out slightly too sharp teeth from where its mouth hangs open, agape. “Are you trying to kill me? What’s wrong? Is it that guy from last night?”
Jason keeps his grip firm on the All-Blades as he slides off the opposite side of the bed, keeping his eyes locked on the demon in front of him. He licks his dry lips and wishes he would’ve just got up to find that water.
“You’re a demon,” Jason says, not letting himself look away. Demon’s were crafty. Quick. He had to keep it in his sights.
The demon rolls its eyes. “Thanks for stating the obvious, Captain Todd. Now can you tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“You’re— you’re a demon. I’m going to kill you.”
The demon stares at him with open confusion for a good two minuets.
“Um,” says the demon, “what? I— what? Jason? Did you have a nightmare? Do you know where you are right now?”
Anger flashes hot through Jason. “No, I don’t know where the fuck I am right now!” He shouts. “You kidnapped me you succubus.”
The demon rolls its eyes. “Okay, rude. Let's try this again. Do you know who I am? Do you know my name?”
Jason narrows his eyes at the demon. Was this some sort of trick? “Why? Making sure I can’t send you back where you belong? Fat chance, princess. You’re not going back to hell, I’m ending you here and now.” He adjusts his grip on the All-Blades. He might not be at a hundred percent, but he’s bigger than the demon and has swords specifically made for killing evil entities. He could do this.
The demon purses his lips and straightens, leaning back against the far wall. “Well first of all, I’m Tim,” says the demon, which sounds like bullshit. As far as Jason knew all demons had weird fancy names like Belzabub and Rothgar. Tim was not a very demonic name. “This is our apartment, we’ve lived here for two years. And I’m your soulmate.”
Jason nearly chokes on his laughter. “Bull,” he says, “everyone knows that demons don’t have souls.”
“Rude,” says “Tim”, “and anyways I can prove it. I have your soulmark.” He reaches for the hem of his shirt and when Jason raises the All-Blades meaning he has the gall to roll his eyes. “Put those away, Blade Runner, you’re gonna poke your eye out.” He lifts his shirt and turns around. Turns his back to Jason, and raises the fabric just enough for Jason to see the distinct shape of his soulmark.
But it’s— it’s wrong. He knows that’s his mark but the position is wrong, the angle. It seems... warped, in a way. Whereas Jason’s is a Bluejay, this one seems to almost be a dragon curled in on itself. And yet, the more Jason looks at it, the more he sees the bird.
“It’s a trick,” he says, but his voice is shaky and unsure. “That’s not— there’s no way my soulmate is a— is—”
The demon drops the shirt and turns back around. Its face a mixture between worry and annoyance. “We fought a warlock last night. He managed to hit you with a spell but we weren't sure that it had worked— half of his spells were duds. Apparently it worked just fine, and apparently it was some sort of memory spell. What else don’t you remember?”
“How am I supposed to know what I don’t remember!?” Jason demands. “That's the point! Is that you don’t know what you don’t know!”
“Tim” looked pensive for a moment. “Alright,” it said, “fair. Okay, so what do you know?”
Jason scoffs. “As if I’d tell you anything.”
“I already told you, we’re—”
“Soulmates,” Jason interrupts. “As if. You faked that mark somehow.”
“Marks are impossible to fake,” the demon says, “I know you know that.”
“Maybe I don’t,” says Jason, just to be petulant. “Maybe I don’t know anything.”
The demon raises a single eyebrow. It looks unfairly hot in it’s too large shorts and it’s tiny black boxer briefs peaking out from underneath.
“Fine.” Says Jason, lowering the blades. “But that doesn’t explain why I was able to summon the All-Blades.”
“Tim” looks at him like he’s stupid. “We already established that I’m a demon. I’m evil incarnate. A child of the devil, a creature from hell. Whatever. It actually comes in handy on cares more than you might think.”
Jason narrows his eyes. “And how’s that?”
“Just think,” the demon says, “with me around, you can always summon the All-Blades, no problem.”
Unfortunately, “Tim” has a point. There’s been a time or two fighting a crazed witch or pixie who, while not inherently evil, were a real pain in the ass.
“Whatever,” Jason says, finally willing the blades away. “So we’re— you’re my—”
“Partner,” says Tim, “anything else seems to give you hives. Although...” He looks thoughtful. “I did see a ring in your sock drawer the other day, wonder what that’s about.”
Jason feels the blood drain from his face. “What?”
The corner of Tim’s mouth ticks up in a smile. “Kidding. Don’t worry about it until you get your memories back, big guy.”
Jason would very much like to worry about it. He wonders which set of drawers is his and if he can get away looking through them without Tim thinking something up. It sure didn’t sound like he was kidding.
Would Jason do that? Marry a demon?
Demons had killed Bruce’s parents. They’d caused Jason’s mom to overdose and Dick’s parents' fall was because of Zucco’s deal with a devil.
Could he ever work with a demon, live with a demon, and love one enough to want to spend the rest of his life with one? Jason could feel his heart pick up in speed. Was it really- was this real? Could it be? Did he somehow turn his back on everything he’d ever known?
A soft hand brushes against his wrist and he jolts back to the present. Tim trails his fingers along the back of Jason’s hand before intertwining their fingers.
“Jay,” he says, “seriously. I was joking. Don’t worry about it.”
Jason’s definitely going to worry about it, and Tim looks like he knows that. Still, Jason says “Okay, so what’s the plan?” Because if he does have amnesia he’d like his memories back stat.
Tim squeezes his hand and when he pulls away Jason finds that he misses the weight of Tim’s hand in his. “Okay,” Tim says, “I’m going to call Dick so he can stay with you while I track down that warlock wannabe from last night. Klarion usually knows where magic users end up, so I’ll give him a call once Dick gets here.”
Wait. “What?” Jason asks, “Why are you calling Dick?” He has Dick’s number? Well, he must. If they’re— if Jason is thinking about— if they’re together. If they’re living together, Jason’s brother probably knows his demon roommate’s number. “Why am I not going with you?”
Tim looks at him for a long moment, chewing on his lip in a way that feels shockingly familiar to Jason. “I don’t—” he starts, and then cuts himself off. “I know you, Jay,” he says, and Jason sort of hates how true that feels. “I know how you felt about— how you feel about demons. About people like me. And that’s not your fault. Demons suck, I would know. But especially before we, I mean, before I— it’s different now. But you don’t know that, and that’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to be in the same room as me while I get this figured out. You can stay here, hang with Dick. You don’t have to worry about it. And then, hopefully, I can get the warlock to reverse the spell or tell me how to reverse the spell and everything will go back to normal.”
That feels an awful lot like Tim putting the entire problem on his shoulders. Something that also feels familiar to Jason. “Tim,” he tries, “you don’t have too—”
“I’m also,” Tim cuts him off, “being a little selfish. I think it’d be better if you stayed here.”
Jason tries not to get annoyed. “Why?” He asks, and tries not to feel like it’s because Tim is going to screw him over at the first possible moment.
Tim’s shoulders are hunched and he won’t look Jason in the eyes. “I can’t stand you looking at me like that. If I have to work with you while you’re— while you don’t know me I think I might combust.”
Jason’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? How am I looking at you?”
“Like...” Tim shifts. “Like you don’t trust me, but you feel bad for me. It’s the worst of both worlds.” There’s a smile in the tone of his voice but he still won’t look up.
“I’m not— I can’t help how I look at you,” Jason tries. He wasn’t even aware he was looking at Tim in a certain way, but now he can feel the draw of his eyebrows and the set to his lips.
“I know,” says Tim, and, “it’s okay. I’m just gonna call Dick.”
And then he’s skirting around Jason and darting out of the room.
Jason feels a little like he should feel bad, but it’s hard to feel bad for making a demon a little uncomfortable.
Jason takes his time getting ready. He finds the connected bathroom and takes a shamefully long shower. When he looks at himself in the mirror nothing seems off. He looks how he remembers himself. Not older, not changed. Exactly the same. Except now with a demon for a soulmate.
By the time he emerges from the bedroom Dick is already there. Jason is actually a little surprised to see him. It wasn’t that he’d thought Tim was lying about calling Dick, exactly. It’s just that Jason knows you can never really trust a demon.
Dick and Tim are standing next to each other by a kitchen island, each with a mug of coffee in their hands. Their heads are bent and they’re speaking in low voices. The moment they notice Jason, Tim is straightening up and stepping away.
Dick spares a glance at Tim before directing his attention to Jason. “Hey, Jay.” He says, and his smile looks a little painful. “Hear you’re having some memory problems.”
Jason shrugs but accepts the mug that Dick hands him. “We’ll see,” he says, and doesn’t miss the look Dick shoots at Tim.
Tim’s wearing worn jeans and a hoodie that looks a bit too large for him. The sleeves come down just past his knuckles and the logo on the front is so worn that Jason can’t quite make out what it says. He’s got his own mug of coffee in a tight grip and he’s staring at Jason like maybe he can burn a hole in him if he looks long enough.
Jason sips at his coffee. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Dick snorts but Tim just rips his eyes away and downs the rest of his drink. He turns and busies himself with rinsing the mug out in the sink. “Zach should be here soon,” he says, “I’m meeting up with Klarion downtown and we’ll go confront the warlock from last night.”
Jason raises an eyebrow. “Zach?” He asks.
“Zatara,” Dick answers, and then says, “are you sure you don’t want me to go with you, Tim?”
Tim shakes his head. “Jason needs a familiar face. Besides, it won’t take long.”
He keeps his face tilted away as he shoves on some sneakers without bothering to untie them first and is out the door before either Jason or Dick can say anything else.
Well.
Jason takes another drink from his coffee. Milk, no sugar. Just how he usually takes it. He wonders if Dick made it for him or if it was Tim.
“So,” Jason says, “we’re just working with Klarion, now?”
“He and Tim are friends.” Dick shrugs. “Zachary is stopping by because apparently Tim sounded nervous over the phone.”
“And you’re, what. Fine working with a demon?”
Dick’s lips press together. “Jay,” he says, “I know you don’t have all the facts right now but it’s really not like that. I mean, it’s Tim.”
“Yeah,” Jason bites, “Tim. A demon. And you just, what, believed him when he said he was my soulmate?”
“You can’t fake soulmarks, Jay,” Dick tells him rolling his eyes.
“A demon killed your parents,” Jason hisses, “a demon killed Bruce’s parents. A demon is why my mom is dead and why I died. They’re evil incarnate. Or did you forget that?”
“Jay—”
“Woah,” says a new voice, “am I interrupting something?”
Dick rubs at his forehead like he’s the stressed one here. “No.” He sighs. “Hey, Zatara. I’m sure you remember Jason but he doesn’t remember you.”
Zatara quirks the side of his mouth up into a smirk. “Yeah,” he says, “Tim mentioned something about that. He wanted my opinion but I thought it’d be better if I swung by to see the damage in person.”
Zatara is a young man with black hair perfectly placed. He’s wearing a suit and vest with a little bowtie. He looks like a—
“Magician,” Jason says.
“Got it in one.” Zatara winks at him. “Now let's look at this memory problem of yours. I might not be able to do much until Tim figures out the exact parameters but.” He shrugs. “Then Tim can owe me another favor.”
Jason bristles. “You trade favors with a demon?”
Zatara rolls his eyes as he starts circling Jason, it feels like he’s sizing him up. “My husband is a demon,” he says, “so watch your mouth.”
Jason throws his arms in the air. “So we’re all okay with demons now. Got it.”
“To be fair,” Dick says as he flops down on the couch, “Eddie didn’t start out like a demon.”
Zatara hums, picking at a strand of Jason’s hair. He holds his hands up in surrender when Jason slaps his hand away. “That’s true. But then again, most demons are made, not born. Todd here’s the lucky one.”
Jason narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What,” Zatara says, finally stepping back and slipping his hands into his pockets. Jason wants to knock the smug look off of his face. “No one told you that your boy was the real deal? Timmy’s a true born, full blooded demon.”
Jason’s hands clench. “What.”
“Zatara,” Dick says, in a warning tone.
Zatara has a sharp grin cutting across his face. “I honestly forgot what a dipship you used to be.”
Jason takes a step forward but suddenly Dick is there with a hand on his arm to hold him back.
“Tim’s parents are demon royalty, basically. Just under the devil himself. Real bigwigs.”
“So?” Jason asks. Why should he care that Tim is a trust fund demon?
“So,” Zatara says, and then steps right in Jason’s face, ignoring the protesting sound Dick makes. “He could have stayed down there for all eternity. Probably pretty cushy being on the devil’s good side, right?” Zatara is a good head shorter than Jason, but still he leans closer, unintimidated. “So. Why do you think it is that he’s down here?”
Jason growls and goes to rip his arm from Dick’s grip. He doesn’t care if this Zatara freak is here to help. It doesn’t matter if he’s Justice League sanctioned or not. Jason’s going to punch the living daylights out of him.
There’s a sudden pop, like Jason’s ears are clearing suddenly and then a new voice says, “Oh. You’re here.”
Zatara takes a step back and peers around Jason. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Jason turns to see Klarion and Tim standing in the living room like they’ve always been here. Tim is already bending over to pull off his shoes, when he notices Jason looking at him his snaps his gaze away.
“If you really want to see what Teekl can drag, by all means.” Klarion brushes some imaginary dust off of his jacket. His cat, who Jason assumes must be Teekle, meows from its perch on his shoulders.
Zatara flips him off. “Tim,” he says, apparently deciding to ignore Klarion now, “good to see you. You owe me a favor.”
Tim huffs what might be a breath of laughter. “Yeah, sure,” he says, “put it on my tab.” And then he’s tossing what looks like an oversized marble across the room. Zatara snatches it out of the air no problem and holds it up to the light.
“That,” Tim says, as he makes his way to set his shoes down in the entry way, “is Jason’s memories. Think you can put them back?”
Klarion scoffs. “I told you, Timothy. We don’t need him. I am more than capable—”
“Klar,” Tim interrupts, “dude. You’re very good at blowing things up and wreaking havoc but I’d rather keep any hint of chaos away from my boyfriend’s memories, thanks.”
Jason bristles slightly at the casual use of “boyfriend” but lets Dick guide him to the couch.
“It’s all good, Jay,” Dick says, in what is most definitely his Victim Voice, “just hold on and everything will be back to normal.”
“Right,” Jason grouses, “normal. I’m using quotes, could you hear them?”
Zatara rolls his eyes but sits down on the coffee table. “This might take a bit, sealed memories like this can be prone to cracking. This is why you don’t use glass when doing mind work.”
Klarion snorts. “Obviously.”
Dick pats Jason awkwardly on the arm and Tim fucks off to the kitchen. Doing something in there with the dishes.
“Pretty weird that my boyfriend is so intent on ignoring me,” he says pointedly, and the three other men in the room go quiet and still.
“Dude,” Dick says.
“Well,” Zatara says after another moment, “you are kind of being an asshole.”
Jason scoffs. “How am I being an asshole? He’s the demon!”
“Would you hurry with that?” Klarion asks, stepping over to investigate the small glass ball in Zatara’s hands. “I forgot how insufferable he was before.”
“Working on it,” Zatara says, and the marble starts to glow.
“How do I know that you’re all not working against me?” Jason asks. “This could all be some demon ploy to get me to give away trade secrets.”
“What secrets?” Dick asks. “We already know you’re gay.”
There’s a snort from the kitchen and Jason whips his head around to see—
To see—
Tim stands in the kitchen. He’s been putting away the dishes from last night, something he usually only does when he’s feeling particularly anxious about something and needs to keep his hands busy. He’s got the kettle on and Jason’s favorite tea set on the counter. He doesn’t even like tea but he’s got enough mugs set out for everyone.
His eyebrows are knit together just slightly as their eyes meet. He’s worried and trying not to show it.
“You—” Jason starts, and then cuts himself off, because something else is tugging at the back of his brain.
“Jay?” Dick asks. “You okay?”
Jason’s hands clench, bunching up the fabric of his pants. “You found the ring and didn’t say anything?”
Tim’s mouth drops open.
“What.” Klarion says at the same time that Zach says, “Well, would you look at the time.”
“Jay—” Dick tries again but Zach is pulling him up and saying, “no dude, trust me. We should leave.”
Tim shrugs helplessly. “I know it’s important to you. To do things in a certain way. I didn’t want to— and I mean. Maybe it wasn’t even for me. Maybe it was just, like, a family heirloom or a cursed artifact. It’d be rude to assume.”
“What ring?” Klarion asks, and then, “don’t touch me with those disgusting hands of your’s, Zatara. I know where you’ve been.”
“It’s literally in your size,” Jason says, and he’s standing up and ignoring his brother and Tim’s weird friends because this is more important. “Why wouldn’t it be for you?”
Tim’s mouth works for a moment and he shakes his head imploringly. “I mean. You’ve never been that big a fan of demons. I wasn’t sure—”
“You weren’t sure that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?” Jason asks. “You weren’t sure that we owned an apartment together?”
Finally, Tim cracks a smile. “Maybe it was all a ruse to get me to lower my guard.”
“Absolutely, it was.” Jason nods. “You lower your guard enough to think maybe I’m not such a loser and then you agree to marry me. My dastardly plan.”
“Disgusting,” Jason hears Klarion say, before there’s another pop and he and Tim are finally alone.
“Honestly I was stalling for so long because I wasn’t sure if marriage worked the same for demons.”
Tim rolls his eyes. “You’ve literally met my parents. That’s about as married as two people can get.”
Jason grins. “So, is that a yes?”
Tim shakes his head. “I want you to do it right. Flowers and a fancy restaurant and a walk on the beach or whatever the fuck you were planning.”
Jason takes his hand. “You hate all that sappy shit.”
“Yeah, but you like it. It’s important to you.”
Jason presses a kiss to Tim’s forehead. “Alright. I’ll take you out this weekend. Somewhere nice. No particular reason.”
Tim leans into him. “Okay,” he says, “sounds good.”