Tim could be 'handsome'. He very much was 'cute'. But neither of those things counteracted the fact that Tim was stunningly pretty. At least to Jason.
While Tim flipped the last tortilla off the pan and onto the plate, Jason twisted the knob to cut the gas to his burner as well, plucking a sacrificial slice of steak to give it a taste test. "Mm, this turned out pretty good. I found a place that sells dried ancho chilis without charging an arm and a leg. Here-" He picked up another small piece, holding it out for Tim to sample.
"I fell off a roof. Go ahead and take the tortillas into the living room and grab a seat, I'll grab us some drinks and bring out the pan as soon as I find my trivet..."
Okay, this was too far. Jason Todd was not feeding him---
And yet there Tim stood, blushing and sinking his teeth into the juiciest
bite of peppered steak with his mouth watering for more and watching Jason
rummage for whatever the hell a trivet was.... Tim just had to figure, this
was a dream. Pure and simple. A fantasy. One Tim didn't even realize he
had. Because there was no way. None of this was actually real.
"....you fell off a roof," he said, more to himself as he took the plate of
tortillas into the room and set it down on the table as he took a seat.
"Because I'm pretty? Is this like, you were distracted by my ass kind of a
deal?" Because all of them had fallen prey to that when Dick tried out a
new costume. The guy was shameless.
A trivet was apparently just a round piece of cork that got tossed onto the wood of the coffee table that Jason set the cast iron skillet onto it keep it from, you know, burning his coffee table. A folded up dish towel would have served the same purpose, but this was supposed to be a date-ish thing, right? It was bad enough he didn't have a proper table to sit at, the least he could do was use an actual trivet instead of just whatever he grabbed.
"It's stupid and you will be horrified at the story if you can't even handle me calling you pretty. I'll stop, I'm weirding you out. You want a zesti or a corona?"
Or maybe a shot of fucking tequila to make himself stop talking. He opted for a zesti instead, but the temptation was real and Tim wasn't the only one blushing a little when he came back with Tim's preferred drink and settled on the couch next to his company. He even left space between them so their knees weren't touching.
Tim wants to say zesti but it comes out Corona. He doesn't even really like
beer, but he really does need something if Jason's going to keep
saying things like that to him out of the blue. It shouldn't be weird, and
it's Tim's own fault for letting it be. After all, Jason wasn't saying
anything insane or weird - he'd complimented Tim, several times. And he'd
made them both a delicious looking dinner. It's just---is it too good to be
true? Tim really needs a therapist to talk through his issues with things
being good every now and then between all the bad.
After crafting his fajita, he lifts it in cheers and takes a pretty big
bite, his mouth yet again watering. Not just from how good it is but from
the heat too. It was middle of the road spicy exactly how Tim liked it.
And it was so far beyond Tim's usual these days of cold pizza slices and
bad cheeseburgers that he was definitely going to eat his fill.
"I'm not weirded out," Tim adds, finally. "Well, not by you, exactly...
Look, none of us really know how to take a compliment. And you and I don't
exactly exchange them often."
Perhaps that was the difference. Tim needed a therapist. Jason already had one. One he'd been talking to almost a year now, working mostly on how to handle his pit induced emotional dysregulation, but they'd started branching backwards into the first stages of his many traumas.
Just don't ask who his therapist is.
"Hey, I compliment you! I just...don't do it with words." After all, he didn't really work with any of the other Bats on a regular basis. Occasionally something would go down that made Bruce swallow his pride and reach out, but for the most part Jason only worked semi-regularly with Red Robin. Their territories were neighbors, but also-
"What, you think I call you in on cases cause you're pretty? No, you're fucking smart and just as relentless as I am about the important shit. I'm not exactly handing out invitations into the Bowery, either."
Tim nods, taking another big bite because he's really missed good, home
cooked food lately. The longer he's on his own, the more it feels
improbable to go to Wayne Manor just for some of Alfred's waffles. Feels
like he's taking advantage. Seriously: needs. a. therapist.
"I'm just saying, you aren't weirding me out." He hums
appreciatively. "Also, these fajitas? You've been holding out on us. So
good."
Baby steps, Tim. They would get there. Eventually. Maybe.
He smiled a little at the compliment, finally reaching out to grab a corn tortilla to build himself a fajita. Half of it disappeared in one bite and he rumbled out a sound of appreciation as he chewed. "They did turn out pretty good. I'm gunna have to remember this marinade.
It was Dick's fault." He didn't elaborate right away, just took another bite of his food and took his time to savor it before he continued. "The last time there was a big Arkham break out, we were all exhausted and he tossed you a can of Starbucks espresso and you smiled like he was a literal angel from heaven and...I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking cause I was watching your smile and I hit a bad tile. Fell about three stories and landed on a fire escape. Worth it."
Tim has to force himself to listen, to really listen, and feel the
weight of this little secret. A part of him will always be waiting for the
other shoe to drop where Jason's concerned, because that's just been the
norm for so long. Much easier for them to get pissed at each other, even
when they're working together for the same goals, than to be sincere.
He eats a few more bites to finish off his first in silence, and then goes
to build a second one.
"My smile? Not even my ass?" He crack a small smile then, trying to bite it
back but unable to. He wants to be snarky and cool and aloof, but that's
just---god, Jason, that's sweet, okay?
To be fair, it was easier for Jason to get pissed than anything else. Literally. His emotional threshold was garbage, a result of both some truly intense PTSD and his dip in the Pit. It was why it had been so easy for Talia to poison him against Bruce and Tim. Why he couldn't seem to not lose his temper around Bruce.
Everything, once it reached a certain tipping point, just became anger. He was working on it and he liked to think that it was starting to show...but conversations like this one? They were hard. Tim's unease just made him feel even more foolish and he huffed out a small laugh, but he looked away to instead just grab a plain tortilla to snack on.
This had been a terrible idea. He was making a fool of himself.
"These are pretty good. I'll write down the recipe for you."
Tim's not sure, but things feel suddenly a little more awkward. This whole thing was probably a bad idea from the start, but Tim doesn't want to fuck it up just because he's nervous and awkward and very much not used to playing nice with one of his closest allies.
They sit in silence for a while before Tim sits back and sips his beer, glancing at Jason. His strong face looking unbearably soft in this strange moment.
"How long ago was that?" he asks quietly. "The roof thing? Because I had a lot of those moments too, you know. After you stopped trying to kill me, actually even during those times if I'm really honest. I mean---I practically grew myself up in your shadow. I was awed by you." He clears his throat. "Still am, actually."
XD They'll figure it out! Eventually. I'm sorry he's Like This.
It wasn't just Tim who was nervous and awkward. For a moment, he was worried that it had all gone off the rails...but then Tim continued and Jason's shoulders relaxed as he finally looked up from his lap.
"Wait. You do? I don't believe it. Nothing 'bout me is anything to be 'awe'd about."
Tim's eyes widen in disbelief. "You're---Jason, you're kidding, right?" Or being incredibly humble. Tim didn't say thing he didn't mean, after all, and he certainly meant that he was continually awed by things that Jason did and even sometimes the things he didn't do because he was able to restrain himself.
He waved away the disbelief, shaking his head as he reached forward to make himself another fajita.
"I was a shit Robin. He got an upgrade with you." Even if he hated the fact that Bruce had put another kid in that kind of danger again, he had to at least admit that Tim had been the best choice.
"You know, I actually remember you. It took a while and a whole lot of distance from Talia's bullshit, but I do. The stalker kid with the camera. You used to give me a hell of a headache, you know that? But if you were already out there, already piecing things together in that brilliant brain of yours...you were probably safer with him than on your own. And you were a fucking amazing Robin. Still are."
It was all---it was a lot to throw at Tim all of a sudden. His heart felt like it might burst if Jason kept saying the exact things that Tim had wanted to hear from him for years. He'd always wanted to make Jason proud. Honor his memory. When he'd been dead, Tim had worked a hundred times harder than anyone else, just to keep up where Jason had left off, just to be good enough for Bruce to look at. Let alone partner with, which took even longer. And then when Jason came back, he'd been so cruel and vicious, and Tim hadn't stood a chance. Hell, he still probably wouldn't in a fist fight. He would always be slimmer than the rest of them, that was just the way his body was shaped, and no amount of working out or protein shakes had changed that.
Now, he was hearing---Jason remembered him. Before everything went to shit. Remembered the dorky little kid trying to snap a photo of his favorite superhero, his idol, his everything.
Tim shook his head. "I'm not exactly Robin anymore," he said, his voice carrying the weight of that decision, which had never been truly his. Damian had come along, and things had changed for him, whether he liked them or not.
Maybe it was really shitty timing. Maybe Tim was just hung up on the headiness of so many compliments and getting dinner cooked for him and Jason loving his smile enough to fall off a damn roof. Whatever it was, it pushed Tim forward, urged him to lean in and interrupt Jason getting his next fajita in favor of cupping a hand at the other man's cheek and canting his face for a kiss.
"Dickface was wrong for that. For a lot of things, but especially for that." He made a face, fully intending on making more food and then launching into a rant about how that entire situation had been bullshit...but then Tim's hand was on his cheek and his lips were on Jason's lips and all of it fizzled away to nothing as he gentled under that touch.
The kiss itself was brief and a little awkward in it's surprise, but Jason only let Tim break the kiss for a moment before he was reaching up to cup the back of the younger boy's neck to draw him in for another. Sweet and soft, almost chaste in it's briefness, but there and wholly instigated by Jason. He lingered when it broke, sharing air and stroking his thumb over the soft hairs at the nape of Tim's neck.
The second kiss is just as sweet, but so much better because it comes from
Jason. Tim can't help feeling just a little guilty. After all, Bernard had
complained more than a few times that Tim's head wasn't in the
relationship, and Tim kept putting it off and putting it off, but the truth
was, this was something he'd always wanted since before he'd even
known what wanting was.
He'd expected something much different than this, and in all fairness, his
fantasies had certainly been more of the sexual nature and less romantic.
This was elevated to a level Tim hadn't been looking for but desperately
liked.
Jason's hand was rough on his skin but so, so gentle. Tim smiles.
The sexual aspect was....strange for Jason. It was there, thrumming under the surface, but it wasn't something that he was used to. It was novel, foreign. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.
But the kissing? He liked the kissing. The closeness. Cooking with Tim warm at his side, eating together? Even with the awkwardness of the night, it was still good. Better than anything Jason had ever hoped for himself, if he were honest.
Tim's skin was soft under his callouses, his breath warm where it mingled with his own. Those crystal colored eyes on him. He shivered, dipping in to press another soft kiss against lips he was very rapidly becoming addicted to.
Tim laughed, a warm, content sound. Not at Jason by any means but because a
sound needed to come out and he felt so incredibly good. "Then we'll do our
best not to fuck it up."
He liffs a hand to Jason's shoulder, smoothing down over his arm, easing
the tense muscles there until he felt them calm.
When was the last time he'd heard that laugh? Had he ever heard that laugh? Not directed at him, he was pretty sure. It sent warmth through his belly, a whole array of butterflies that fluttered and twisted about under the gnarly ropes of his scars. It made him smile, shy and a little lopsided.
"Yeah. Okay."
He wanted to point out that Barney was better than him in every way and he'd still managed to fuck it up....but he didn't. Not yet, anyway. He didn't want to put it into the universe that he was useless at this. He'd read so much but he'd never gotten to put any of it into practice and most of it would just be laughable in today's day and age. But being laughed at for spreading a picnic in the park was better than reducing this to a stress relief fuck in the shower, right?
He didn't want to just be a convenient body. Not again and certainly not to Tim.
"Okay," Tim murmurs, still happy to take up space and share the same
breaths for a few more minutes at least. The spell is likely to break at
some point, but Tim will take it for however long it lasts, closing his
eyes and pressing his forehead against Jason's. Allowing them both a few
minutes of secure, safe silence before he decided to fill the quiet with
another reply.
"A little opposite of shoving me against a wall. But I like it." He pressed
another kiss to Jason's lips and then pulled back. "But if you think I'm
about to less these go to waste, you're crazy." And he tucked back into his
food, a flush on his face but content.
Maybe the spell would break. Maybe the honeymoon phase would be short lived and Tim would realize what a shitty idea all this was. Maybe they wouldn't even get to the honeymoon phase. The space between them was charged with so many 'maybe's and still Jason found himself closing his eyes as their foreheads came together. The silence was deafening and he relaxed under it's pressure, content with the chance at a 'maybe'.
Another kiss and then Tim was turning back to the skillet of almost forgotten food and Jason huffed a small laugh as he flopped back to watch the younger boy put together another fajita.
"You know, for as much as you seem to like the idea of being shoved against a wall, you kiss very softly." It was a tease, but he couldn't quite help the way he reached up to brush his thumb over his lower lip. "Usually when people kiss me it's all grabby hands and teeth. Didn't know it could be so sweet. I liked it."
"I'm full of multitudes," Tim says, taking another sip of beer to wash down
what he's eating. He's pretty full admittedly, and he might regret
finishing off his third fajita, but he wasn't kidding about it being too
good to waste. He sets down the half-eaten third one, turns to face Jason
with his knee on the couch. There's a moment in which Tim considers just
keeping the sass going, rizzing between one another is easy after all, but
something about what Jason says bites at him.
He said, when people kiss me. Not when I kiss people. There was a weird
difference there that didn't sit well with Tim's overactive brain.
"Just how many people are kissing you these days?" he asks, quietly.
While Tim was debating the merits of finishing his third fajita, Jason snagged another tortilla to start constructing another. It took a hefty amount of calories to fuel his bulk, after all, and he hadn't trained his body to survive off nothing but vibes and coffee like Tim had. Not since his dip into the Lazarus pit, anyway.
He'd come out of that river with a hunger that had ached in his bones and there were times when it still felt like his stomach was trying to digest his spine if he waited too long between meals. It was true that he'd spent the first half of his life hungry and ignoring it, but there was no more ignoring it once the Pit had jump started his metabolism.
He was mid-bite when Tim turned a serious expression at him and Jason arched a brow in confusion as he chewed. "Wha-?" The bite muffled the question to jibberish and he rolled his eyes and held up a finger as he finished chewing and swallowed hard, chasing it with a sip from his Zesti to make sure everything went down okay.
"What are you talking about? You're the first person I've kissed in..." He thought about it for a moment, then scoffed at himself. "Fuck, in years. Where did that come from, babybird?"
The question shouldn't have surprised him. His history was in Bruce's files on him, every sordid detail of what he'd been doing to survive before he'd been taken in.
"The way you said it," Tim answer honestly. "Usually, when people kiss me.
I don't know. I didn't like that. The thought of people shoving into your
space to take what they wanted instead of giving you the space to accept
it." This isn't their usual conversation, and it's a little strained, but
getting easier by the minute. This softer side of Jason is a welcomed one.
Even if he's still giving Tim ridiculous nicknames.
"If I'm out of bounds, just say so and I'll drop it."
It wasn't their usual conversation and it...it was nice that Tim cared enough to push, but also, he didn't exactly like thinking about his time before Batman or his time with the League.
He certainly couldn't face those pretty, concerned eyes while he did it.
"You're not out of bounds, I just...It's not that big of a deal. It's pretty common in the League for people to find stress relief where ever they can. And I was pretty used to it cause of-" He cut himself off with an awkward shoulder shrug, eyes firmly planted on his half eaten food.
Suddenly, he didn't want to finish it.
"No gag reflex and already being used to holding still made me popular, I guess. It was a while ago, Tim. I was a whole different person back then."
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While Tim flipped the last tortilla off the pan and onto the plate, Jason twisted the knob to cut the gas to his burner as well, plucking a sacrificial slice of steak to give it a taste test. "Mm, this turned out pretty good. I found a place that sells dried ancho chilis without charging an arm and a leg. Here-" He picked up another small piece, holding it out for Tim to sample.
"I fell off a roof. Go ahead and take the tortillas into the living room and grab a seat, I'll grab us some drinks and bring out the pan as soon as I find my trivet..."
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Okay, this was too far. Jason Todd was not feeding him---
And yet there Tim stood, blushing and sinking his teeth into the juiciest bite of peppered steak with his mouth watering for more and watching Jason rummage for whatever the hell a trivet was.... Tim just had to figure, this was a dream. Pure and simple. A fantasy. One Tim didn't even realize he had. Because there was no way. None of this was actually real.
"....you fell off a roof," he said, more to himself as he took the plate of tortillas into the room and set it down on the table as he took a seat. "Because I'm pretty? Is this like, you were distracted by my ass kind of a deal?" Because all of them had fallen prey to that when Dick tried out a new costume. The guy was shameless.
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"It's stupid and you will be horrified at the story if you can't even handle me calling you pretty. I'll stop, I'm weirding you out. You want a zesti or a corona?"
Or maybe a shot of fucking tequila to make himself stop talking. He opted for a zesti instead, but the temptation was real and Tim wasn't the only one blushing a little when he came back with Tim's preferred drink and settled on the couch next to his company. He even left space between them so their knees weren't touching.
"Eat. I'll be normal."
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Tim wants to say zesti but it comes out Corona. He doesn't even really like beer, but he really does need something if Jason's going to keep saying things like that to him out of the blue. It shouldn't be weird, and it's Tim's own fault for letting it be. After all, Jason wasn't saying anything insane or weird - he'd complimented Tim, several times. And he'd made them both a delicious looking dinner. It's just---is it too good to be true? Tim really needs a therapist to talk through his issues with things being good every now and then between all the bad.
After crafting his fajita, he lifts it in cheers and takes a pretty big bite, his mouth yet again watering. Not just from how good it is but from the heat too. It was middle of the road spicy exactly how Tim liked it.
And it was so far beyond Tim's usual these days of cold pizza slices and bad cheeseburgers that he was definitely going to eat his fill.
"I'm not weirded out," Tim adds, finally. "Well, not by you, exactly... Look, none of us really know how to take a compliment. And you and I don't exactly exchange them often."
no subject
Just don't ask who his therapist is.
"Hey, I compliment you! I just...don't do it with words." After all, he didn't really work with any of the other Bats on a regular basis. Occasionally something would go down that made Bruce swallow his pride and reach out, but for the most part Jason only worked semi-regularly with Red Robin. Their territories were neighbors, but also-
"What, you think I call you in on cases cause you're pretty? No, you're fucking smart and just as relentless as I am about the important shit. I'm not exactly handing out invitations into the Bowery, either."
no subject
Tim nods, taking another big bite because he's really missed good, home cooked food lately. The longer he's on his own, the more it feels improbable to go to Wayne Manor just for some of Alfred's waffles. Feels like he's taking advantage. Seriously: needs. a. therapist.
"I'm just saying, you aren't weirding me out." He hums appreciatively. "Also, these fajitas? You've been holding out on us. So good."
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He smiled a little at the compliment, finally reaching out to grab a corn tortilla to build himself a fajita. Half of it disappeared in one bite and he rumbled out a sound of appreciation as he chewed. "They did turn out pretty good. I'm gunna have to remember this marinade.
It was Dick's fault." He didn't elaborate right away, just took another bite of his food and took his time to savor it before he continued. "The last time there was a big Arkham break out, we were all exhausted and he tossed you a can of Starbucks espresso and you smiled like he was a literal angel from heaven and...I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking cause I was watching your smile and I hit a bad tile. Fell about three stories and landed on a fire escape. Worth it."
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Tim has to force himself to listen, to really listen, and feel the weight of this little secret. A part of him will always be waiting for the other shoe to drop where Jason's concerned, because that's just been the norm for so long. Much easier for them to get pissed at each other, even when they're working together for the same goals, than to be sincere.
He eats a few more bites to finish off his first in silence, and then goes to build a second one.
"My smile? Not even my ass?" He crack a small smile then, trying to bite it back but unable to. He wants to be snarky and cool and aloof, but that's just---god, Jason, that's sweet, okay?
no subject
Everything, once it reached a certain tipping point, just became anger. He was working on it and he liked to think that it was starting to show...but conversations like this one? They were hard. Tim's unease just made him feel even more foolish and he huffed out a small laugh, but he looked away to instead just grab a plain tortilla to snack on.
This had been a terrible idea. He was making a fool of himself.
"These are pretty good. I'll write down the recipe for you."
istg these two
They sit in silence for a while before Tim sits back and sips his beer, glancing at Jason. His strong face looking unbearably soft in this strange moment.
"How long ago was that?" he asks quietly. "The roof thing? Because I had a lot of those moments too, you know. After you stopped trying to kill me, actually even during those times if I'm really honest. I mean---I practically grew myself up in your shadow. I was awed by you." He clears his throat. "Still am, actually."
XD They'll figure it out! Eventually. I'm sorry he's Like This.
"Wait. You do? I don't believe it. Nothing 'bout me is anything to be 'awe'd about."
but daddy i love him!
They're in love, your honor!
"I was a shit Robin. He got an upgrade with you." Even if he hated the fact that Bruce had put another kid in that kind of danger again, he had to at least admit that Tim had been the best choice.
"You know, I actually remember you. It took a while and a whole lot of distance from Talia's bullshit, but I do. The stalker kid with the camera. You used to give me a hell of a headache, you know that? But if you were already out there, already piecing things together in that brilliant brain of yours...you were probably safer with him than on your own. And you were a fucking amazing Robin. Still are."
no subject
Now, he was hearing---Jason remembered him. Before everything went to shit. Remembered the dorky little kid trying to snap a photo of his favorite superhero, his idol, his everything.
Tim shook his head. "I'm not exactly Robin anymore," he said, his voice carrying the weight of that decision, which had never been truly his. Damian had come along, and things had changed for him, whether he liked them or not.
Maybe it was really shitty timing. Maybe Tim was just hung up on the headiness of so many compliments and getting dinner cooked for him and Jason loving his smile enough to fall off a damn roof. Whatever it was, it pushed Tim forward, urged him to lean in and interrupt Jason getting his next fajita in favor of cupping a hand at the other man's cheek and canting his face for a kiss.
no subject
The kiss itself was brief and a little awkward in it's surprise, but Jason only let Tim break the kiss for a moment before he was reaching up to cup the back of the younger boy's neck to draw him in for another. Sweet and soft, almost chaste in it's briefness, but there and wholly instigated by Jason. He lingered when it broke, sharing air and stroking his thumb over the soft hairs at the nape of Tim's neck.
"Wanted to do that for a while..."
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The second kiss is just as sweet, but so much better because it comes from Jason. Tim can't help feeling just a little guilty. After all, Bernard had complained more than a few times that Tim's head wasn't in the relationship, and Tim kept putting it off and putting it off, but the truth was, this was something he'd always wanted since before he'd even known what wanting was.
He'd expected something much different than this, and in all fairness, his fantasies had certainly been more of the sexual nature and less romantic. This was elevated to a level Tim hadn't been looking for but desperately liked.
Jason's hand was rough on his skin but so, so gentle. Tim smiles.
"Not longer than me."
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But the kissing? He liked the kissing. The closeness. Cooking with Tim warm at his side, eating together? Even with the awkwardness of the night, it was still good. Better than anything Jason had ever hoped for himself, if he were honest.
Tim's skin was soft under his callouses, his breath warm where it mingled with his own. Those crystal colored eyes on him. He shivered, dipping in to press another soft kiss against lips he was very rapidly becoming addicted to.
"I really don't want to fuck this up..."
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Tim laughed, a warm, content sound. Not at Jason by any means but because a sound needed to come out and he felt so incredibly good. "Then we'll do our best not to fuck it up."
He liffs a hand to Jason's shoulder, smoothing down over his arm, easing the tense muscles there until he felt them calm.
"Okay?"
no subject
"Yeah. Okay."
He wanted to point out that Barney was better than him in every way and he'd still managed to fuck it up....but he didn't. Not yet, anyway. He didn't want to put it into the universe that he was useless at this. He'd read so much but he'd never gotten to put any of it into practice and most of it would just be laughable in today's day and age. But being laughed at for spreading a picnic in the park was better than reducing this to a stress relief fuck in the shower, right?
He didn't want to just be a convenient body. Not again and certainly not to Tim.
no subject
"Okay," Tim murmurs, still happy to take up space and share the same breaths for a few more minutes at least. The spell is likely to break at some point, but Tim will take it for however long it lasts, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Jason's. Allowing them both a few minutes of secure, safe silence before he decided to fill the quiet with another reply.
"A little opposite of shoving me against a wall. But I like it." He pressed another kiss to Jason's lips and then pulled back. "But if you think I'm about to less these go to waste, you're crazy." And he tucked back into his food, a flush on his face but content.
no subject
Another kiss and then Tim was turning back to the skillet of almost forgotten food and Jason huffed a small laugh as he flopped back to watch the younger boy put together another fajita.
"You know, for as much as you seem to like the idea of being shoved against a wall, you kiss very softly." It was a tease, but he couldn't quite help the way he reached up to brush his thumb over his lower lip. "Usually when people kiss me it's all grabby hands and teeth. Didn't know it could be so sweet. I liked it."
no subject
"I'm full of multitudes," Tim says, taking another sip of beer to wash down what he's eating. He's pretty full admittedly, and he might regret finishing off his third fajita, but he wasn't kidding about it being too good to waste. He sets down the half-eaten third one, turns to face Jason with his knee on the couch. There's a moment in which Tim considers just keeping the sass going, rizzing between one another is easy after all, but something about what Jason says bites at him.
He said, when people kiss me. Not when I kiss people. There was a weird difference there that didn't sit well with Tim's overactive brain.
"Just how many people are kissing you these days?" he asks, quietly.
no subject
He'd come out of that river with a hunger that had ached in his bones and there were times when it still felt like his stomach was trying to digest his spine if he waited too long between meals. It was true that he'd spent the first half of his life hungry and ignoring it, but there was no more ignoring it once the Pit had jump started his metabolism.
He was mid-bite when Tim turned a serious expression at him and Jason arched a brow in confusion as he chewed. "Wha-?" The bite muffled the question to jibberish and he rolled his eyes and held up a finger as he finished chewing and swallowed hard, chasing it with a sip from his Zesti to make sure everything went down okay.
"What are you talking about? You're the first person I've kissed in..." He thought about it for a moment, then scoffed at himself. "Fuck, in years. Where did that come from, babybird?"
The question shouldn't have surprised him. His history was in Bruce's files on him, every sordid detail of what he'd been doing to survive before he'd been taken in.
no subject
"The way you said it," Tim answer honestly. "Usually, when people kiss me. I don't know. I didn't like that. The thought of people shoving into your space to take what they wanted instead of giving you the space to accept it." This isn't their usual conversation, and it's a little strained, but getting easier by the minute. This softer side of Jason is a welcomed one.
Even if he's still giving Tim ridiculous nicknames.
"If I'm out of bounds, just say so and I'll drop it."
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He certainly couldn't face those pretty, concerned eyes while he did it.
"You're not out of bounds, I just...It's not that big of a deal. It's pretty common in the League for people to find stress relief where ever they can. And I was pretty used to it cause of-" He cut himself off with an awkward shoulder shrug, eyes firmly planted on his half eaten food.
Suddenly, he didn't want to finish it.
"No gag reflex and already being used to holding still made me popular, I guess. It was a while ago, Tim. I was a whole different person back then."
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