Work Text:
“Hey.”
“Hey back.”
The night was cold. Dark and unrelenting. Shadows stretched and the only light came from artificial sources. Street lamps and car headlights driving by. Post patrol meet ups at their shared apartment in the city was one of the few balms for the bruise that was Gotham.
They were quiet as they took off their uniforms. Tim undid buckles and latches, zippers pulled down by Jason so he didn't have to reach back to do it himself. His left shoulder was bad from a dislocation a few years prior. Jason shucked off his jacket, then undid the bits holding his armor on. Fabric hit the ground and suddenly work wasn't on their backs anymore. Exhaustion clung to their bones and bruises littered their bodies. Tim pulled out a chair and stood by it quietly. Jason took the cue and sat, routine activating.
Slowly Tim worked. Cuts got sanitized. Big gashes got quick and practiced stitches. Bruised got salve and a kiss. Sore shoulders got strong hands to knead into them. Quiet groans of relief echoed into the void of their unlit little kitchen. Then, they switched. Jason carefully ran large hands over Tim's body, looking for cuts and gashes, bruises and bullet holes. Each cut was carefully tended to. Then, when their work was done, strong arms wrapped around a bare chest and a chin with barely-there stubble rested on top of dirty black hair.
A few moments before squirming had Jason release his hold and a lean frame took Jason's hand and led them to their small bathroom. A sink, toilet, and shower with a back all crammed into a bathroom big enough for one. They stepped into a warm stream of water together. Grey and brown water trailed down their mutual bodies and into the drain. Hands carefully scrubbed dirt from hair while the other, mindful of fresh wounds, tenderly washed the body. Conditioner made its way into the familiar routine and Jason huffed in amusement the way Tim insisted. For a moment they just stayed like that. Tired minds and bodies in the spray of warm, cleansing water. Relishing in the way it soothed aching joints.
A rinse and then a towel passed from one pair of hands to the other. Jason dried off as Tim grabbed his own towel. Once the water no longer clung to their skin they migrated. Jason tugged on new briefs while Tim threw on a clean shirt. Jason opted for a pair of cotton plaid pants while Tim grabbed shorts.
Finally, their bed. The endgame. Jason flopped into it with a huff and Tim simply shook his head with a fond smile. He settled into the covers before rolling into Jason's side. A protective arm wrapped around him and Tim rested his head on Jason's chest. Jason in turn twisted his head to be partially buried in Tim's hair, soaking in the smell of the conditioner he pretended to hate.
The sun rose above the cloudy Gotham sky as they fell asleep together.