[At least Robin didn't also end up with a disco collar? And that SURE IS A THING JASON SAID, wow. Obviously a joke though, right? Right. Probably best not to think too hard on that but hahaha have you met Tim. 8| Anyway, he's been ready to go for hours by the time Jason turns up, and he's practically vibrating with restless energy. Or maybe that's just all the coffee he's had to drink today. Mistakes may've been made.]
Door's unlocked, by the way.
[What good is a locked door to someone like Jason anyway.]
[ True, he would never be Discowing, but he would also never have the Grayson booty. The disco could be forgiven for that beautiful body. Hours later, its shockingly a car that shut's off outside. Why? Because he wasn't about to stick Tim on the back of his bike. Without even a knock, Jason made his way inside. Leather pants and a sinfully tight black shirt. ]
[That's exactly why he left the door unlocked - no need to replace what's broken if you can prevent it from being broken in the first place. Not that Tim expects Jason to break down his door, but Jason's something of a wild card and can't always be predicted, so he figures it's better not to take the chance.
The corner of his mouth creeps up in half a smile at Jason's greeting, though he continues tapping away at the laptop on the table in front of him.]
That's funny - I don't remember you moving in with me.
[Tim finishes the line of code he's been typing, saves the program, then folds the laptop shut. He rubs at his eye with the heel of his hand, then turns his full attention to Jason - and what he's wearing. Wow. Suddenly Tim feels underdressed, in a charcoal grey button-up (collar open, sleeves rolled up halfway on his forearms) and jeans. Eyebrow arched at Jason, he leans back in his chair to stretch his arms behind his head.]
So what's the occasion for tonight? I forgot to ask earlier.
[Not entirely true - Tim chose to wait until they were face to face. Text messages don't give any indication of body language, after all.]
[ Jason made his way on in, eyes scanning Tim's place as the door was kicked shut behind him. Nice enough, far nicer than he'd expect but, Tim was Tim, he'd probably be happy with a table and a laptop. Not like the kid slept. ]
Weeks ago, Timbers, you wouldn't know, your never in that nice bed of yours.
[ He came back quickly, a playful beat to his tone. Meanwhile, Jason's wondering if he shouldn't have wore a nicer shirt, but he knows he'll get them in anywhere just fine.]
It's a day that ends in Y, and you've been copped up to much. Get up, get your shoes on, we're heading out.
Oh, so that's where you've been hiding? Under my bed?
[Tim can banter right back with the best of them, even if it does end up sounding a little more ... suggestive after the fact than he intended. Oops. Well, maybe Jason won't notice.
He's not wrong, though - Tim has been cooped up a lot lately. The Belfry programs aren't going to write themselves, or debug themselves, for that matter. Tim pushes back his chair from the table and climbs out of it.]
[He's not even sure Jason's going to show this time. For all Tim knows, Jason could be sitting back at some dive bar or another, laughing at him. Jason's something of an enigma anyway, and text communication removes the human element from the equation - important clues like tone and facial expression and body language. Tim just isn't sure how to read any of Jason's recent messages, and unless he turns up tonight to elucidate - well, Tim will just need to wait and see if that happens. No sense in obsessing over it until and if that comes to pass.
... Yeah, right.
He is trying not to think about it. Honestly. But the computer screen in front of him seems to be taunting him; he's been staring at the same lines of code for what feels like hours, attention pulled sideways to the open window every time he hears a sound that could be a harbinger of Jason's arrival. Tim sighs loudly and buries his face in his hands, mumbling to himself:]
( he considers not showing. not to fuck with tim, but--okay, maybe to fuck with tim. he was nice the last two times he visited aside from the cup incident, it's about time he dicks around with tim. but he doesn't. the next time shit sounds at tim's window, it is jason, hanging from a nice, thick wire and holding a brown paper back under his free arm, red hood helmet securely latched in place.
his boots land inside the window frame, balancing carefully on the thin ledge as he tugs the wire free and kneels down to hop into the room. )
[Tim's shoulders tense when the sound of Jason's landing reaches his ears. He drops his hands from his face, sets eyes on Jason slipping inside his window, and a wave of anxiety kicks his heart rate up; he can't decide if he should feel frightened of Jason being here or relieved that he showed up or both. (Probably both.)]
I guess that's what happens when you give me vague answers, Jason - I get demanding. [He stands up from the desk, waves Jason farther inside the room, and makes his way into the tiny kitchen off the main room, to retrieve a pair of non-edible glasses they can use.] What did you decide to bring?
( apparently anything’s edible if tim’s drunk enough. he almost brings that up again, but. tim’s just going to nag at him for letting him eat the cups in the first place, and getting nagged at is no fun. he gets that shit enough from bruce without tim adding onto it, thank you. )
Rum. The kind Bruce keeps around, so you know it’s the good shit. ( because bruce’s booze stash is generally full of only great shit. that’s why it’s the best to steal from. jason follows tim to the kitchen, sets the brown paper bag down on the table as he pulls off the hood and sets it down on the counter. )
I thought you liked a little mystery in your life. Keeps things interesting. ( the corners of his lips turn up into a small grin, weight leaning back against the kitchen wall. )
[Because guess who has no barometer whatsoever for what qualifies as good alcohol? This (underage) guy! Two short glasses are produced from the cabinet over the sink and carried back over to the table with a shrug to Jason as Tim passes by.]
Maybe I like both - mystery and straight answers. What can I say? I'm complicated.
[There's a note of levity in his tone, but it's pushed over the tension underneath. Mysteries are fun to pick apart, of course, but Tim's never a hundred percent certain of where he stands with Jason. (Is it even possible to be a hundred percent certain of your standing with Jason?) And since Jason's admitted to having ulterior motives for encouraging Tim's drinking escapades but not yet confirmed what those are, Tim's naturally a little on edge.]
[It's a smallish apartment, third floor with easy access to the roof, in a part of town less likely to pay attention to a costumed teenager coming and going at all hours. Month-to-month rental, because Tim's not sure how long he's going to be here - long enough to get the Belfry up and running, all the kinks ironed out, but after that? He's not sure. Hasn't decided yet. It's not an easy thing, deciding what to do with the rest of your life.
He's not thinking about all of that now; he still has time to make up his mind, and anyway, Jason may be coming over, so that's taking up the majority of his attention at the moment. Tim's quietly tapping away at his computer, debugging code while he waits, trying his hardest to keep his attention from straying to every sound at the open window. Either Jason will turn up or he won't. Tim's extended the invitation, but at this point, what Jason does with it is out of Tim's hands.]
[ So they didn't get off on the right foot today and now Jason is on his way over to Tim's. This is probably a bad idea all around, but when has that ever stopped Jason? He wonders if he'll ever get off on the right foot with any of them- it's always so hit or miss. He's vaguely aware that today's fumble was probably on him, but whether he actually owns up to it or not is a whole other story.
He knows where Tim lives. He knows where they all live- just in case. In their line of work, it's always better to have a just in case, or to not so secretly keep tabs on each other without admitting it.
Jason takes his time, mostly because he's still trying to decide if this is a thing he should be doing, even as he climbs the fire escape leading to Tim's window and perches himself there. ]
If you leave your window open like this you never know what might come in off the street.
[They fumbled back and forth tonight; Tim's just as much to blame for how that conversation turned out as Jason. On some level, he knows that, which is why he issued the invitation for Jason to come over. So he could try to smooth things over, in his very Tim way, because if it's left up to Jason, Tim's guessing it would be another six months before he heard from Jason again, and Tim definitely doesn't want that.]
Ha. [Tim forces a laugh, flat and pointed, and sits back in his chair, arms outstretched behind his head, fingers interlaced.] Don't worry about me, I know how to handle the occasional stray.
[His arms drop back to the table, and Tim waves Jason inside. Not a single trap lies in wait.]
[ Tim's right about how Jason would have handled this. He's not big on reaching out when there's a slip in communication. Even on a good day it's a struggle at times and if he can deal with it later, he definitely will.
Tim gets a little more leeway because he doesn't actively try to drive Jason up a while. This was no big deal. ]
Do you offer to run diagnostics on all their phones?
[He climbs in, pulling the phone out of his pocket and tosses it at Tim in a way that doesn't leave why he would drop his phone off the roof to the imaginaton. Well. That, and the bullet. ]
[He catches the phone easily - thank you, reflexes and training - looks it over, and gives Jason the most severe side-eye.]
Really, Jason? Your phone's been shot?
[Somehow, Tim's just not even a little bit surprised. He sighs and starts digging through a pile of cords to the side of the computer for one that will fit the phone's charging port.]
No. I don't do this for everyone.
[Most of the people he'd do this for aren't as hard on their phones, or can afford to buy new ones immediately when they break.]
[Of all the ways for this day to turn out, having Jason Todd's tongue in his mouth and hands on his hips ranks highly on the "didn't see that coming" meter. Tim's not complaining, though, and not just because of that whole tongue-in-mouth thing - this is something he's wanted for a long time. Never really entertained the idea that it could become reality, Jason's always seemed so goddamn unattainable, but wanted all the same. Thought about, sure - he wasn't kidding about that part of the earlier text message exchange, Tim's thought about what would happen if they did somehow end up like this quite a lot.
So far, so good.
Tim has to take a momentary break from kissing to breathe, grinning at Jason's mouth as he quickly fills his lungs with air. He makes his tone light, nonchalant:]
Hey, Jason. Come on in. Take your jacket off.
[That would probably be easier to accomplish if Tim showed any sign of backing off from pinning him against the wall, but Tim stays pressed in exactly as close as he has been, moving back to take Jason's mouth with his own. His hands travel down the front of Jason's chest to slide up underneath his shirt, taking the moment to just feel what Jason's like without the body armor.]
[Holy shit, when did Tim learn how to be so fucking cute? And not cute in the "pinch his cheeks and blow raspberries" way. This is cute in the "can't wait to fucking destroy him" way. He pants against his lips, returning his grin in kind.]
What, aren't you gonna offer to take it for me? Some host you are...
[That's code for "if you want me undressed, do it yourself."]
[Excuse you, Jason, Tim has always been this cute, you've just been too buttmad to see it until now.]
Mm, I know - I really was raised a lot better than this.
[Does it look like he's stopping anytime soon, though? No, Tim definitely is not. He'll get to the undressing eventually, but for now, his hands slip around Jason's back, slide down to wrap around his ass, squeeze playfully hard.]
Must be your bad-boy antihero influence rubbing off on me.
[Jason's mouth drops open, and he almost makes an embarrassing sound. At the last minute, he turns it into a chuckle, cocking his head and fixing Tim with a challenging smirk.]
Yeah? Well. [He slides his hands into Tim's back pockets, pressing their hips together. At the same time, he steps forward, backing Tim away from the wall.] Let's see how much more I can rub off on you before the night's out, huh?
[Surprise, Jason, little Timmy's got teeth - well, metaphorically speaking, anyway, he hasn't brought teeth into the actual equation just yet. That whole hip-to-hip thing is a good idea, so Tim slips his fingers up to Jason's waist and hooks his fingers through his belt loops while his thumbs trace over the edge of his waistband, doing his part to keep them together while he walks backward into the apartment, turning them toward the hallway and the bedroom.]
Mm, is that all you plan on doing, Jason? Rubbing off on me? 'Cause I seem to remember there being talk about stepping on me as well.
[And judging from how Tim can't seem to stop grinning, he's absolutely down for that.]
jason } get the stars out your eyes; come and bring them to me.
Of course I'm not OK with that, Jason. I don't want to follow in his footsteps. That's why I work so hard to be better.
[and maybe that's part of why tim's so adamant about not giving up on jason. maybe that's part of why he's insisting on reaching out when others would've given up by now.]
I've been replaced before, you know - maybe not the same way it happened for you, but I still know what it feels like to have something you care about deeply taken from you.
you don't get it, not in the least i held out for him for six months. i told them all he was coming for me, he'd save me and then the other fucking robin shows up i spent over a year in an abandoned wing of arkham taking hits meant for him, getting the shit beaten out of me begging for him to come and find me he didn't even look for me because he had you and he didn't need me anymore
[it wasn't me he types out and immediately erases, because arguing those kinds of details isn't going to help anything, is it. tim doesn't know the entirety of this jason's story, but what jason's finally telling him about sounds like a variation on the theme of the story he already knows.]
He must've thought you were dead, Jason. I can't believe there's any version of him on any world where he wouldn't look for you if he believed you were still alive.
[tim hesitates for a moment, deciding whether to include an example. would it help jason to know what happened to his counterpart here? maybe. it's worth trying, at least.]
The Jason Todd from this world did die - not at Arkham, the circumstances were different, but it was at the Joker's hands. Batman lost who he was without Robin. I didn't intend to become Robin myself - I tried to get Dick to go back and help Batman, but he wouldn't listen to me. I don't know if it's the same for the Tim Drake you know, but if he's anything like me, he wasn't trying to replace you - he just wanted to help.
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jason } we got scars on our future hearts but we never look back.
[At least Robin didn't also end up with a disco collar? And that SURE IS A THING JASON SAID, wow. Obviously a joke though, right? Right. Probably best not to think too hard on that but hahaha have you met Tim. 8| Anyway, he's been ready to go for hours by the time Jason turns up, and he's practically vibrating with restless energy. Or maybe that's just all the coffee he's had to drink today. Mistakes may've been made.]
Door's unlocked, by the way.
[What good is a locked door to someone like Jason anyway.]
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[ True, he would never be Discowing, but he would also never have the Grayson booty. The disco could be forgiven for that beautiful body. Hours later, its shockingly a car that shut's off outside. Why? Because he wasn't about to stick Tim on the back of his bike. Without even a knock, Jason made his way inside. Leather pants and a sinfully tight black shirt. ]
Timmy! I'm home!
[ Of course he had to.]
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The corner of his mouth creeps up in half a smile at Jason's greeting, though he continues tapping away at the laptop on the table in front of him.]
That's funny - I don't remember you moving in with me.
[Tim finishes the line of code he's been typing, saves the program, then folds the laptop shut. He rubs at his eye with the heel of his hand, then turns his full attention to Jason - and what he's wearing. Wow. Suddenly Tim feels underdressed, in a charcoal grey button-up (collar open, sleeves rolled up halfway on his forearms) and jeans. Eyebrow arched at Jason, he leans back in his chair to stretch his arms behind his head.]
So what's the occasion for tonight? I forgot to ask earlier.
[Not entirely true - Tim chose to wait until they were face to face. Text messages don't give any indication of body language, after all.]
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Weeks ago, Timbers, you wouldn't know, your never in that nice bed of yours.
[ He came back quickly, a playful beat to his tone. Meanwhile, Jason's wondering if he shouldn't have wore a nicer shirt, but he knows he'll get them in anywhere just fine.]
It's a day that ends in Y, and you've been copped up to much. Get up, get your shoes on, we're heading out.
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[Tim can banter right back with the best of them, even if it does end up sounding a little more ... suggestive after the fact than he intended. Oops. Well, maybe Jason won't notice.
He's not wrong, though - Tim has been cooped up a lot lately. The Belfry programs aren't going to write themselves, or debug themselves, for that matter. Tim pushes back his chair from the table and climbs out of it.]
Already got shoes. Do I need a jacket?
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jason } there's only so much you can miss before we both collide.
... Yeah, right.
He is trying not to think about it. Honestly. But the computer screen in front of him seems to be taunting him; he's been staring at the same lines of code for what feels like hours, attention pulled sideways to the open window every time he hears a sound that could be a harbinger of Jason's arrival. Tim sighs loudly and buries his face in his hands, mumbling to himself:]
This is stupid.
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his boots land inside the window frame, balancing carefully on the thin ledge as he tugs the wire free and kneels down to hop into the room. )
Well that was demanding, Timmy.
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I guess that's what happens when you give me vague answers, Jason - I get demanding. [He stands up from the desk, waves Jason farther inside the room, and makes his way into the tiny kitchen off the main room, to retrieve a pair of non-edible glasses they can use.] What did you decide to bring?
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Rum. The kind Bruce keeps around, so you know it’s the good shit. ( because bruce’s booze stash is generally full of only great shit. that’s why it’s the best to steal from. jason follows tim to the kitchen, sets the brown paper bag down on the table as he pulls off the hood and sets it down on the counter. )
I thought you liked a little mystery in your life. Keeps things interesting. ( the corners of his lips turn up into a small grin, weight leaning back against the kitchen wall. )
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[Because guess who has no barometer whatsoever for what qualifies as good alcohol? This (underage) guy! Two short glasses are produced from the cabinet over the sink and carried back over to the table with a shrug to Jason as Tim passes by.]
Maybe I like both - mystery and straight answers. What can I say?
I'm complicated.
[There's a note of levity in his tone, but it's pushed over the tension underneath. Mysteries are fun to pick apart, of course, but Tim's never a hundred percent certain of where he stands with Jason. (Is it even possible to be a hundred percent certain of your standing with Jason?) And since Jason's admitted to having ulterior motives for encouraging Tim's drinking escapades but not yet confirmed what those are, Tim's naturally a little on edge.]
You don't drink rum with ice, right?
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jason } and i wish i could shout you out.
He's not thinking about all of that now; he still has time to make up his mind, and anyway, Jason may be coming over, so that's taking up the majority of his attention at the moment. Tim's quietly tapping away at his computer, debugging code while he waits, trying his hardest to keep his attention from straying to every sound at the open window. Either Jason will turn up or he won't. Tim's extended the invitation, but at this point, what Jason does with it is out of Tim's hands.]
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He knows where Tim lives. He knows where they all live- just in case. In their line of work, it's always better to have a just in case, or to not so secretly keep tabs on each other without admitting it.
Jason takes his time, mostly because he's still trying to decide if this is a thing he should be doing, even as he climbs the fire escape leading to Tim's window and perches himself there. ]
If you leave your window open like this you never know what might come in off the street.
[Har har]
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Ha. [Tim forces a laugh, flat and pointed, and sits back in his chair, arms outstretched behind his head, fingers interlaced.] Don't worry about me, I know how to handle the occasional stray.
[His arms drop back to the table, and Tim waves Jason inside. Not a single trap lies in wait.]
So, how high of a building are we talking about?
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Tim gets a little more leeway because he doesn't actively try to drive Jason up a while. This was no big deal. ]
Do you offer to run diagnostics on all their phones?
[He climbs in, pulling the phone out of his pocket and tosses it at Tim in a way that doesn't leave why he would drop his phone off the roof to the imaginaton. Well. That, and the bullet. ]
Five stories, give or take.
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Really, Jason? Your phone's been shot?
[Somehow, Tim's just not even a little bit surprised. He sighs and starts digging through a pile of cords to the side of the computer for one that will fit the phone's charging port.]
No. I don't do this for everyone.
[Most of the people he'd do this for aren't as hard on their phones, or can afford to buy new ones immediately when they break.]
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these idiots!
birdbrains ... pls
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jason } but when the waves come, you face them, and you know we can't stop it now.
So far, so good.
Tim has to take a momentary break from kissing to breathe, grinning at Jason's mouth as he quickly fills his lungs with air. He makes his tone light, nonchalant:]
Hey, Jason. Come on in. Take your jacket off.
[That would probably be easier to accomplish if Tim showed any sign of backing off from pinning him against the wall, but Tim stays pressed in exactly as close as he has been, moving back to take Jason's mouth with his own. His hands travel down the front of Jason's chest to slide up underneath his shirt, taking the moment to just feel what Jason's like without the body armor.]
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What, aren't you gonna offer to take it for me? Some host you are...
[That's code for "if you want me undressed, do it yourself."]
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Mm, I know - I really was raised a lot better than this.
[Does it look like he's stopping anytime soon, though? No, Tim definitely is not. He'll get to the undressing eventually, but for now, his hands slip around Jason's back, slide down to wrap around his ass, squeeze playfully hard.]
Must be your bad-boy antihero influence rubbing off on me.
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Yeah? Well. [He slides his hands into Tim's back pockets, pressing their hips together. At the same time, he steps forward, backing Tim away from the wall.] Let's see how much more I can rub off on you before the night's out, huh?
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Mm, is that all you plan on doing, Jason? Rubbing off on me? 'Cause I seem to remember there being talk about stepping on me as well.
[And judging from how Tim can't seem to stop grinning, he's absolutely down for that.]
jason } get the stars out your eyes; come and bring them to me.
[and maybe that's part of why tim's so adamant about not giving up on jason. maybe that's part of why he's insisting on reaching out when others would've given up by now.]
I've been replaced before, you know - maybe not the same way it happened for you, but I still know what it feels like to have something you care about deeply taken from you.
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i held out for him for six months.
i told them all he was coming for me, he'd save me
and then the other fucking robin shows up
i spent over a year in an abandoned wing of arkham
taking hits meant for him, getting the shit beaten out of me
begging for him to come and find me
he didn't even look for me
because he had you and he didn't need me anymore
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He must've thought you were dead, Jason. I can't believe there's any version of him on any world where he wouldn't look for you if he believed you were still alive.
[tim hesitates for a moment, deciding whether to include an example. would it help jason to know what happened to his counterpart here? maybe. it's worth trying, at least.]
The Jason Todd from this world did die - not at Arkham, the circumstances were different, but it was at the Joker's hands. Batman lost who he was without Robin. I didn't intend to become Robin myself - I tried to get Dick to go back and help Batman, but he wouldn't listen to me. I don't know if it's the same for the Tim Drake you know, but if he's anything like me, he wasn't trying to replace you - he just wanted to help.
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death was a luxury i wasn't given
b didn't look for me
he replaced me within months
the tim drake i know is a six foot asshole
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