#'have some jaytim that grew legs on me'

[ragnarokhound]

((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.” 

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric. 

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 

The kiss is— bad. At first. 

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

[wthcew]

JayTim, flirting, falling in love and cuddles and JJ Tim who gor adopted by Harley and Ivy pretty please??

Sweetie, you just jumped on my train of JJ fics, I hope you don't mind that I added a little bit of smut

I'm so sorry it took me that long to write it, I hope you like it!

_____________________________________________

30 days

_____________________________________________

The first time he heard about it he was under the ground. He felt like he was choking, his helmet somewhere unknown and with it his communication with Oracle. He isn't talking to B (not after he chose the fucking Joker over him) but he does help Nightwing sometimes, and oh, did he wished right now that he would have never let Dick in his safehouse.

Nightwing and Red Hood were about to bust a drag ring, but the thing is, it was an ambush, so now they're both under ground, Hood's leg impaled to the ground by an iron pillar from one of the walls that exploded and that they're buried under, his helmet in an unknown place and 'wing trying to call for help.

Jason tried to slow his breath but being under ground is bringing back bad memories (He can't breathe, he's locked, and all he want right now is his dad-) of being six feet under and he's hysterical- because everything is hurting and broken and half his face are burned and he can't breathe so please, please he just want his dad, "please dad come save me"-

He's so gone into his mind, letting his panic control him that he's flinching away when Dick touching his shoulder, but it's pulling him out of his head (and just when did the tears started to spill out of his eyes?), and Dick is looking at him, the whites lenses of his domino mask are gone and instead Jason's getting those blue eyes that are full with concern.

"It's okay Jay" Dick smiled at him, a small smile that somehow made Jason believe that it's okay. "B and baby bat are on their way right now," Dick's hand found Jason's and he squeezed it in reassuring. Jason returned the squeeze. "We will be fine"

...

"Did someone ever told you about the kid who almost killed Joker?" Dick asked after couple minutes of silence, when Jason's breath is under control and he isn't so much as hysterical as he was couple of minutes before.

Jay turned his head to Dick, "No" his voice was hoarse, too hoarse for his own ears but Dick didn't seems to mind, he just nodded his head and smiled softly at him.

"He was thirteen years old back then, Joker took him, when Babs still was Batgirl" And at that moment Dick's comn beeped and after five minutes they were out of the ground, Bruce and Damian next to Dick, checking if he's fine while Jason took his helmet, the hole in his leg isn't that bad and when Dick looking at him the Red Hood already swing away.

_____________________________________________

The second time he heard about it was because he wanted to, he was curious and he wanted to know what happened to the kid, what made a thirteen years old kid almost kill the Joker.

So, he was on his couch, his leg bandaged and a cup of hot tea on the coffe table, his laptop open and working and the reading lamp's orange light made his shadow look like some villain from kids cartoon.

It's hard to find anything about it but he is (A bat) Red Hood, if he wants to he'll find out what happened back then. And he want to.

So Jason cracked his fingers and started to work.

The seconds became to minutes that became to hours of work and clicking on his keyboard, it's hard to find anything because apparently this whole story is shushed and all Jason gathered until now came from a video of the news report and all they said there was that Joker broke out of Arkham and decided he wanted a son, kidnapped some unlucky kid and deleted the boy's personality with electrical shocks until he becamed Joker Junior, and then he kept torturing the kid until the Batman and Batgirl found the kid, broken minded and holding a gun to Joker's head.

It was quite the story, but Jason didn't know what happened later, who the kid was or what happened to him.

But he will, just to know if the kid's okay. Or to ask why he hadn't pulled the trigger..

So he kept digging, looking for anything that may conect to the story. And that's how Jason found himself reading article about Jack and Jent Drake disowning their only child Tim Drake. The kid was only thirteen back then, and all he took before he took off from the face of earth was a stuffed Kola and a camra.

And it may be his curiosity about this because he don't remember the kid and apparently they were neighbors or the JJ thing but he knows that he'll find Tim Drake.

_____________________________________________

Jent Drake died two years after she disowned Tim in a car crash, her husband got depressed and started looking for Tim to reown him but then he met Dana Winters.

There was some love story there that Jason wasn't really that interested in reading but in the end they married and left Gotham, never coming back. And the most annoying thing is, that Tim was never found.

But he did found out that there was some kid that helped Harley and Ivy sometimes, he had a faded red hoodie and faded green jeans.

The hoodie's hat always hiding his face and from the little Jason saw, his skin was more white than normal human skin.

Jason couldn't find a lot of photos of the kid but he did find one of Harley hugging the kid.

Jason looked at the photo, it was fuve years old, when Tim desperate and all the JJ thing happened. The way he held himself was familiar to Jason, something deep in his mind, memories that he couldn't remember, but it was there, and Jason knows that this Tim kid is JJ who is also somehow Harley's kid.

_____________________________________________

"I need your help"

"Oh that's nice, what aby 'hey Babs, how was your day? Did Dick pissed you off and going to sleep on the couch tonight? Can you please help me with this thing?'"

Jason smiled, shifting the phone that was pressed against his ear "What did Dick did?"

"He was a dick"

"How was your day?"

"What did you wanted help with Jay?"

"Clown boy"

"Hmm?"

"Joker Junior"

A sharp breath "What about him?"

"You know who he is?"

"We found him after he took a dip in the acid, and he was dressed like the Joker, too much make up, green hair, purple suit, couldn't recognise him"

"But you know don't you?"

"Batman doesn't know"

"Well you're Oracle not Batman. It's simple question O, you know? Yes or no?"

"I know"

"I think I know too"

"Who do you think it is?"

"Tim Drake"

"..Yes it's him"

"Why didn't you told Bruce?

"He's a good kid"

"He's with Harley now"

"Tim isn't bad"

"Babs, if he's Joker Junior and he's with Harley he can't be that good"

"Jay, Harley and Ivy gave me the tip to find him and Harley took him in after his parents disowned him, he may be stilling sometimes or helping Harley and Ivy but he is good"

"You kept tabs on him?"

"He's smart, he may have lost a lot of his memories because of the Joker and he is crazy but he have support"

"Does Bruce know you're helping hiding him?"

"No, and he wouldn't. Not until Tim decided that it's fine"

"You're in contact?"

"We're just talking, I'm sending him puzels and riddles and it's helping him keep clean mind"

"Can I talk to him?"

"I can't tell you where he is but I also can't stop you from doing this"

"Thank you Babs"

"Not a problem Jaybird"

_____________________________________________

It was a week later that Jason walked into a small unnoticed coffee shop.

The design of the place gave him a feeling of happiness, like it was some kind of home.

He looked through everyone there, couple next to the window, three old ladies sitting in a table for four, chatting and laughing, couple of collage students sitting with something to eat and something warm to drink and typing on their laptops, and on the farthest side of the coffee shop, in a table for two, sat a teen, his hands paler than any human skin, his long hair hiding his face, a coffee cup in front of him and his legs shacking.

"Hello! Can I help you?" A cheerful voice called from the cashier desk, he put on a smile on his face and turned to see a black haired girl, with a big smile on her face.

"Yeah, do you have Eral Gray?"

"We do! Anything else with this?"

"No, thank you"

"Okay, just a minute"

When he got his cup he paid the girl murmuring a "Thank you" and walking to Tim.

When he sat down in front of the teen, icy blue eyes looked at his face, and his breath hitched when he saw the little cuts on at each end of his mouth, creating a smile.

"Hey" Jason said, smiling at Tim.

"Hey.." Tim's voice almost didn't reached his ears and Jason's smile grew wider when Tim smiled at him. A shy little amazing smile.

"I'm Jason"

"T-Tim"

"Nice to meet you"

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted tea"

"You aren't scared?" Tim's eyes looked a bit insane when he said the last word, his smile grew wider and he leaned closer to the table. The cuts on his face and his pale skin made him look like Joker but there was also something else there, something in his eyes that said 'Pleas don't be scared' and Jason swallowed and forced his nerves to calm down.

"No, you actually seems nice"

Tim blinked once.

Twice.

And then his smile became nicer, less dangerous and more shy. He relaxed and took a sip from his coffee.

Jason smiled, sipping from his own cup while making a note in his head to be careful with this one.

They drank a couple more cups together, chatting about nothing in particular and when Tim excused himself and left, Jason found a paper next to the cup.

He opened it because of his dammed curiosity and bis breath hitched.

'Ha ha ha'

_____________________________________________

It was in the middle of the night, the streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

His parents just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But sometimes he wonders if he'll ever be good enough for them to stay. If he'll ever be good enough so his mother wouldn't need to hiss his name through clench teeth and his father to hit him.

Maybe he would never be good enough..

In those nights when he wonders about it, he goes to a walk. It's always makes him calm and shuts his mind down. It's leaving him with the feeling of wholenesses, like some how the wind that hit his body in cold sharp hit is welcoming, or the cold of the night is like his stuffed Kola -the one he got from Bruce Wayne In a gala that his parents hosted when he was four and since then he hides it from his parents and hugging it when he need comfort- or like the silence out here is better than the silence inside the empty house.

And maybe, just maybe hr would see his heros.

And as Tim kept walking he could barely hear this cursed laugh, followed by the soft like song-

Mary had a little lamb

Little lamb, little lamb

Mary had a little lamb...

"Cutie pie?" His mama's voice rang, it was muffled but it was still there. "I'm hearing laughing, it's a good joke?"

A knock on his door "Sweetheart?" His laugh grew and his eyes burned, tears dropping from his eyes.

"Timmy?"

He hugged his legs to his chest, laughing and crying and this song is stuck in his head and he can't stop it and-

"Mary had a little lamb"

Mama's hands are around him, hugging him and petting his hair "Shhh shh shh, everything's fine baby, I'm here"

He can't breathe and the song is on full volume in his head but mama's here and mama is safety, she's safety. He's safe. Safe

_____________________________________________

"What the hell were you thinking?" Oracle's voice rang through the comn in his helmet.

"You need to be more specific than that O"

"Tim blocked me, Selina is mad at Bruce because one of his kids hurt her niece, Harley and Tim are nowhere to be found and Selina and Ivy are planning something"

"I didn't hurt Tim and I don't know why you told ma all the other stuff"

"Hood, Tim's smart, maybe too much smart but his mind is broken, he's crazy and genius"

"Okay and..?"

"He wants to go -and I’m quoting him- Boom he always wanted everyone to know that he's Harley's kid, and I always made him take more time, think about it more the fact that he blocked me means that I can't tell him to sit back anymore"

"You can remove it though"

"I did, and he just throw his phone away"

"So I broke him?"

"No, Joker broke him you just set him off"

"Shit"

"Yes. Shit"

_____________________________________________

"Wohhooo" Was shout out to the sky as Tim set in shopping cart, Harley -in her rollerblades- holding the handles of the cart, and they're both 'driving' down a road, laughing.

The air hit Tim's face in the best way he could have ever imagined and he laughed so hard that his cheedk burned, and maybe he ripped his stiches oncr again today but he dosen't care.

He is happy. So, so happy, like he was with this hot guy in the coffee shop, before his meltdown.

But right now, right now it's all this.

His mama and him, having fun, his mom and aunty kitty somewhere doing her own thing and everything's okay.

He laughed again as they started to speed up, the wind throwing his hair in any direction possible.

After a few minutes they cane to a stop, his mama's smile is so loving and he hopes that his smile is loving as well.

"Come on sweetie, let's do it" Harley smiled as she gave him the lighter, he jumped out of the cart and lit the lighter, his eyes sparking as the fire started spreading.

Tim and Harley walked away because they're crazy not stupid.

There faces lit up as the fireworks blew and flew to the sky.

Harley hugged him from behind and he relaxed into his mama's touch, watching the fireworks becoming to words that are shining over Gotham's sky.

30 days

_____________________________________________

"Hey Hoodie" A cheerful voice called from behind him.

Red Hood turned around, a gun in his hand just to be met with Tim's lovely smile.

"Chill, chill" The teen said, holding his hands up "I'm not going to hurt you"

"What do you want?" Hood asked, lowering his gun.

"We have never met have we?" Tim said, his smile calm

"I don't think so"

"No, but I did met Robin"

"So you met the Demon"

Tim frowned "No. The second one."

"Don't know him"

"Red Hood can't meet Robin II"

"And why's that?"

"Robin II's dead, dad killed him" Tim shock his head "I don't like dad, I liked Robin II and dad did it because it's funny. It's not!"

Tim looked so frustrated, his eyes big and he's looking at Jason like he hope that he would understand that and, something in Jason change, his face are softer under the helmet and-

"Okay Tim, I know you aren't the Joker."

"I didn't met *you* but we did met, I know Robin and I know Jason and now I know Red Hood?"

"You know who I am"

"No, no no no!" Tim looked him straight in the eyes, like he could see his face behind the helmet "You're Red Hood now, you were Robin and you always were Jason but now you Red Hood, I don't know Red Hood!"

"Okay, okay, relax, you don't know Red Hood, that's fine"

"I need to know Red Hood"

"Why?"

"Because I need Red Hood to help me"

"You need help?"

"Yes"

"Okay, but why Red Hood?"

"Because.. Ummm because- Because of Dad! I need Red Hood to help me kill dad"

To kill.. the Joker.

To kill the Joker.

The Joker dead.

'Yes'

"I would help you, Red Hood and Jason, okay?"

Tim nodded "Yeah, okay."

The sky started to glow and they both looked up, looking at fireworks that formed

29 days

_____________________________________________

It was so logical and simple that Jason almost laugh.

He sat next to Tim in some small safehouse, looking at Tim up and down as he was solving Sudoku.

They're waiting for the others to decide exactly who will go in and kill this son of a bitch and aho will make sure that everyone else will be present in that day.

They are waiting for Tim's small family, and Jason smiled at the thought of this family, he once had one and then he died and he was replaced by Stephanie Brown who is now Batgirl so they're fine now. But he doesn't have this family now, all he have are some blurred memories.

Tim let out a little "Yay" with a cute, small giggle that made Jason smile.

"Hey!" Tim suddenly said, looking at Jason with big eyes, Jason looked around him, trying to find something that would make Tim look panoco "What-"

"Are you hurt?" Tim's voice was soft and caring and Jasom heart might have skipped a beat, "No?"

"Than why do you have split lip and bruise on your jaw?"

"I've got into a fight, it's not serious" But Tim was there in seconds, his worry eyes looking at Jason's jaw and just wow- Jason swallowed the lump in his throat when Tim's slender finger touched his lip and-

"I've the best thing to help!" Tim pulled away and his finger caressed Jason's lip in a way that made Jason hold his breath.

And in the next moment Tim putted a chocolate bar in his hand, smiling at him "It help!" He said and Jason huffed a laugh, mentally shacking his head.

"Thanks Timmy" Jason said an smile on his face, opening the chocolate and cutting a line.

It was milk chocolate with pop candy and it was amazing, Jason hummed as he ate it, looking at Tim solving a new sudoku.

After the meeting (if it even can be called that) Jason took the rest of the chocolate bar, just to have something sweet after patrol tonight.

_____________________________________________

Jason stripped from his Red Hood gear, stretching his hands out and poping his back.

He took a quick shower and pulled on a sweat pants and grey hoodie from the deep of his closest 'Maybe it's time to do the laundry'.

Jason smiled as the sky were lit in 25 Days and turned the lamp off.

His lip tickled as some kind of reminder that Tim touched him there, he looked so worried and that just warmed Jason's heart.

And that amazing chocolate- maybe he will have to get hurt more just to have it.

He closed hid eyes, ready to fall asleep and then it hit him-

Oh.

Oh.

Oh shit.

He- he have a crush.

_____________________________________________

The sun was in the middle of the sky when Jason woke up, blinking into the darkness because the blinds are close.

He groaned as he stretched his body, still in the bed under the warmth of the fluffy blanket. The sleepiness still has her claws clutching on him and made Jason wonder why the hell his bed isn't as comfy whenever he's trying to sleep but is when he tries to wake up.

He almost fell asleep again, but the *Bam! Bam! Bam!* on his door made him jolt up from the bed, the gun that he hides between the mattress and the bed in his hand, walking to the living room without making a sound, looking through the peep hole.

He huffed in relief, opening the door looking at Dick who smiled at him. "You woke me up you asshole"

"Sorry little wing" But Dick didn't sounded sorry at all and that just made him groan.

Jason followed Dick to the kitchen after Dick let himself in, the door closing behind them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I can't visit my little brother?"

"Not your brother" Jason turned around to the pantry to take out a tea bag just when Dick flinched from the words as if they're physically harming him.

"You're my brother, even if you don't see it like that"

"Dick."

"No! You're my brother, I count you as my brother" Dick snap and Jason would lie if he said that that didn't touched his heart, even if it's not true because in the end Dick have his new little brother and also a sister and it's really is fine that Jason isn't part of his family. It is.

So he didn't reply to it, just let Dick think what he wants to. "Do you want to tell me why you actually came or what?" He asked as he started to boil water.

"I wanted to talk to you"

"About?"

"You said you'd this case, how's it going?"

Jason took the teapot off the gas, pouring the hot water to his glass, "I didn't told anyone that I've a case"

"Well no but Babs told me"

"Babs don't know, and she would have asked if she wanted to know" Jason took a sip from his cup and turned around to glare at the older man "What it really is about?"

"Bruce saw you with Harley and Ivy and their kid and he wants to know what you all doing"

Jason saw red for a moment and them took a calming breath, a long sip from his tea and walked his way toward the island, putting his mug down and glaring at his so called brother.

"So you're here on a mission?" His voice was cold and full with venom.

"N-no!"

Jason raised an eyebrow "You just said it"

"I don't care what B wanted, I came for my brother"

"Damian isn't here"

"Jason!"

"What? You want me to say that you didn't came because Bruce said something on me? You don't want to know what I'm doing with Harley, Ivy and their kid? Ah? That's what you're telling me?"

"I-"

"Ha! And you just said we're brothers!"

"We are Jason"

"No! You have your own little family, I'm not part of it, never was!"

"You are! You always were and you always will be!"

And at that moment Jason saw green, throwing his mug down on the island, the shatterd flew everywhere and the hot water started to drip down to the floor.

And as a last resort Dick yelled "TIM DRAKE!"

It made Jason blink, and look at Dick, "What did you just said?"

"Tim Drake, it's this boy Joker kidnapped, Harley and Ivy's kid"

"How do you know this?"

"Well, family of detectives and all"

"What do you want?"

"Is he threating you?"

"What? No!"

"Jay, you can tell me the truth"

"Oh I can?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Okay so fuck off"

"Wh-what?"

"The truth is that I want you to fuck off and don't ever come back. Bye."

"..Jay.."

"I'll throw you out of the window"

"Okay, okay. But.."

"Go!" _____________________________________________

Tim sat on an air conditioner motor that was on the roof of a building, his legs tangling down, one shoe red with zigzag lines on it and the other one yellow with glitters. His pants in a fading green colour and a black-blue t-shirt. And Jason just looked, glad that his helmet hiding his face as a stupid smile crossed his face.

"Hoodie hood!" Tim's cheerful voice made Jason's smile wider, and Tim pushed himself of the air conditioner motor, when his feet touched the roof his yellow shoe started to sparkle with light, like little kids shoes.

"Hey clown kid" Tim smiled, something sweet and beautiful that made butterflies fly in Jason's belly.

"I don't like this helmet today" Tim said, his hands touching lightly at the sides of the red helmet.

"And why's that?"

"I can't see your hair. I love your hair!"

Jason smiled, Tim was just... just.

"Thanks baby clown, I love your hair too"

"Baby clown?"

"Yup"

"I like it"

"Good"

Tim took Jason's hand in his and started walking them to the air conditioner motor.

They both sat down, Tim's hands now in his lap and Jason opened his helmet, setting it next to him.

Tim looked at him, his blue icy eyes glinted and a small smile on his face. Jason looked right back at him, the blue-green eyes looking like some amazing place that kids are being told about in fairy tales.

Jason don't know who moved first, or what exactly happened. All he knows is that Tim is sitting in his lap, Tim's hands in his hair and Jason hugging him close. There mouths pressing against each other's. Tim's mouth have this amazing chocolate taste, a hint of coffee and Tim.

In the dark sky above of them, the fireworks draw the 18 days.

_____________________________________________

Jason is happy. Like really truly happy. He couldn't stop smiling this stupid love sick smile since the kiss.

He met Tim every patrol and those small kiss were the best, 10/10 would definitely do again.

Tim's cute and smart and he seems to really like Jason which is amazing because Jason really like him too.

None of the Bats came to annoy him, and everything is just amazing. For once in his life everything is just good.

His grapple gun shot to the next building and the cold wind never felt better. As Red Hood's boots hit the roof a "Hey there, love bird" greeted him.

"Cat," He called back, doing a small '*hi*' with his hand "'sup?"

"We need to talk"

"About?"

"Tim"

Jason sat next to her, his legs tangling down from the roof, "You here to give me the talk?"

"Not the talk you think about, I'll that to his moms"

"Then what talk?"

"Are you serious with him?"

"For now.. for now yes" he said with a bit hesitation.

Selina nodded "That's good for me"

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome sweetie, anyway you nrrd to be careful with Timmy"

"I know that, I wasn't born yesterday Cat"

She huffed a laugh, "Oh I know that sweetie, but you still need to know about Tim's past"

"Isn't he supposed to tell me about it? In his own time?"

"He will, I'm going to tell you only things that he won't because it's a trigger for him"

"The torture?"

"Yes, the torture, and what lead to his kidnapping, and it'll give you an idea yo what his parents were like"

Jason looked at her in the eyes, seriousness burns in them. "Okay, let's hear the story" _____________________________________________

His parents left again, it has been hours since the screaming stopped, his cheeks were wet from tears and his eyes red.

He was hiding in the closet, his hands holding his stuffed Kola close, his left arm is numb except for the cut on it, but it's a small cut and he deserved it. He isn't supposed to talk back to his father.

The dry blood on his arm itched and he needs to treat the cut, but he don't want to move. The closest is a safe place because mother and father can't get in.

New tears slipping down his face and he hugs the Kola tighter.

_____________________________________________

When Tim woke up his neck hurt and his left arm felt like a million fire ants stung her.

He opened the closest door, stumbling out of there holding the Kola in one hand, dropping it on his bed and walking to the bathroom, pulling the first aid kit from under the sink, treating his wound with a hiss of pain.

A quick glance out of the window and he knows it's in the middle of the night, and his parents were supposed to stay home for more couple of days but once again they just left the town. Without telling him. Again. And it's fine, he can't be mad at his parents for leaving him -he is, like his mother says, rotten child- all the time.

But he doesn't have something to do now, and his arm's fine, he can go out and see Batman, and maybe Robin too. Though Robin isn't around a lot now, maybe something happened... _____________________________________________

The streets lamps flickered on and off every couple of seconds, and the stars were hidden in the sky, behind the clouds.

The cold wind hit him merciless, but it just made him smile, he loves the winter. It always made him feel better with himself.

His camera clutched in his hands, his black stocking cap falling on his eyes every couple of minutes, and yes it may be annoying but it's also letting him something to do, because tonight he can't find Batman...

What the hour anyway? Maybe he's late and Batman's back in the cave...

And then he could hear it, some quiet voice singing.. Maybe a kid.. What if the kid need help?

"Hello?' he called out, moving closer to the voice, he can hear the words now.

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

He cried out, pain strobes through all hid body, tears on his face and blood run down his chine and neck

This psycho laugh making him shiver and try to run away. This hateful song in the background..

And this voice.. "Come on Little Lamb, be a good son for little old me, and tell me. What's. Your. Name?"

"T-Tim"

He screamed as he got electriced again. _____________________________________________

He is shacking, scared out of his mind, tears rolling down his face. And it doesn't stop.

He can barely breathe, the electrical shock isn't stopping. And Tim is honest to God scared.

He don't know what's next to come, he can't actually believe it's happening and everything- everything hurt.

He can feel himself leaving his body, his heart- _____________________________________________

He woke up, everything is hurting again and the fucking Joker is looking at him, this psychotic smile on his face-

"Welcome back my Little Lamb"

-And this horrible song again

"Mary had a little lamb Little lamb, little lamb Mary had a little lamb..." _____________________________________________

"What's your name?"

"Tim!" _____________________________________________

"What's. Your. Name?"

"Ti-" _____________________________________________

"Your name?"

He don't even* know *anymore, and it's really frustrating... _____________________________________________

He is laughing. A manic good laugh. Happy laugh.

He's happy because he remembers who he is and it's funny- why did he forgot anyway?

"What's your name?"

"JJ!" _____________________________________________

He laughed as his dad cut his face open do he'll always smile. He laughed as dad throw him to the acid. He laughed as dad painted his hair.

He laughed and he laughed, and laughed and laughed-

But it's not funny anymore- dad isn't here and his hair is black... JJ scowled at the mirror, dad don't like his hair black. He like green. Yes, green hair and purple suit, and red- red, red, red blood. And it's funny- everything funny so hr laughs, but the mirror- The shattered glass flew everywhere and it's so funny that he can't stop laughing-

"Timothy!" Mother's standing by the door, she looks horrified.. it's not funny anymore- it's not-

He can't breathe, he stumbles backwards, tears rolling down his face and he. Can't. Stop. Laughing. _____________________________________________

One night he heard his mother and father talking. It's not fine, but what is fine anymore? He's finally Tim but he's also JJ and it's so confusing.

"I can't look at him anymore Jack, he is pathetic!"

"I know Janet, don't worry"

Tim chokes a whimper. _____________________________________________

The next week Ivy and Harley found Tim trying to drown himself and took him in... _____________________________________________

Jason took in a deep breath, his eyes wet and his heart ache for his little clown.

"It's..."

Catwoman gave him a small smile, "A lot? I know. Those are once of the memories Tim still have"

"I'm- I can't even-" Cat smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder.

The words 13 Days shined in the sky above them.

_____________________________________________

"Hood" Oracle's voice filled his helmet.

"O, how many times do I need to ask you not to hack my helmet?"

Oracle completely ignored him "How's Tim been?"

Jason swallow, he forgot that Babs is actually one of those people who really care about Tim (and him. Because Babs amazing).

"He's been good, happy" Just like Jason. It's like they feel the same thing. He can see Babs smile in his mind at that, like something changed in the weather just because of what he said, and it pulled a smile in his face.

"That's good, how are you?"

"Same as Tim"

And now he can hear her smile when she talks "I'm happy to hear that."

"How are you O? Does Dick head annoying you? 'cuz I can beat him if you need"

O snorted, "Two days sleeping on the sofa and he'll be begging for my forgiveness"

Jason laughed. And they kept talking about nothing for two more minutes, before Babe had to go.

And that's when Jason shot his grapple to another roof and went flying in the sky, the feeling of happiness all over his body.

But it all stopped when hr heard it.

It came straight out of his nightmares, something from his deepest fears.

This manic laugh. Joker's laugh.

And no just no. Thete's no way this stupid fucker got out again.

He dropped to the ground with a thud sound, looking for the fucker but instead seeing a group of teenagers, kicking someone on the ground.. someone who couldn't stop laughing like the Joker and his heart stopped beating for a second when he realised who it is.

A shot noise ripped through the air and the teens stopped, looking back at the red hood holding a gun at one of them.

All he needed to do wad to say "Go. Away" and the teens ran away, leaving Tim on the ground, hugging his legs to his chest, blood and tears mixed together on his face, and he couldn't breathe because the laughing wouldn't stop.

Jason hurried to him, helping him to sit up and uncurl himself, unable to look over Tim's face since he wouldn't let him.

"Tim, sweetie, my baby clown," Jason kissed his cheek, hugging him close to him "It's me, remember? Red Hood"

And at that Tim's head moved, looking up at him. Eyes full of tears and his face twitched in this manic smile, blood dripping down from the now open cuts in his chicks to his chin.

"Timmy babe, can you hear me?" He received a small and hesitate nod that he took as yes.

"Can you give me your hands?" He asked, showing Tim his gloved hands. The smaller man put his hands in his, feeling the fabric.

Tim relaxed, his eyes fixed on the red helmet, the tears stopped rolling down his face.

The laughing quiet down a bit, but still were there.

"You remember me, right? We are friends, hell I'm hoping even more than friends"

Tim nodded, but Jason wasn't sure what he was agreeing with so he just kept talking.

"We have this amazing plan, because you are my little smarty boy right?"

Tim could take in a breath and that was good, he wasn't laughing anymore but he also didn't talk exactly, just watched Jason and every couple of seconds squeezed one of his hands (never the both of them together for some reason).

"Hell I even kissed you that night and it was the greatest thing in the whole world baby clown"

"No." Tim's tiny voice waved on the air.

"Hah?" If Tim didn't like Jason like that... It would be ok, he will be heart breaked for a few days but he would be fine at the end... Somehow.

"I kissed you" Tim said, looking at him with this witty little smile that Jason grew to love so much.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah" a small smile tug on Jason's lips, and their lips met. It was amazing just like the first time they kissed, and it sent sparkles down Jason's body.

And after a minute he let go, both of them taking deep breath.

"Come on baby clown, let's go to my home"

Tim took his hand and he pulled him up, hugging the smaller man.

The words 7 Days exploded in the sky exactly when they reached Jason's apartment.

_____________________________________________ 

Waking up with Tim by his side is amazing.

The smaller man was curled next to him, a hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The long black hair messed up but still so beautiful. Tim's face relaxed, a samll smile on his face.

Last night Jason gave him one of his own shirts, and the younger basically swam in the white shirt.

Jason looked at the paler than normal skin that was now available. It was in the same colour of the shirt.

He pulled Tim closer to him, kissing the beautiful man's forehead and closing his eyes.

Immediately going back to the welcoming blackness of sweat dreamless sleep. _____________________________________________

The next time he woke up was because Tim wasn't next to him.

Jason didn't know exactly why he woke up because of that, but the moment Tim's weight left his body his eyes snapped open, meating beautiful blue eyes.

Tim smiled at him, a sleepy smile. His hair a whole lot of mess and Jason's heart beated faster as he smiled back.

The sun was already in the middle of the sky and the clock on the wall said it was already one A.M.

"Mornin' Jay" Tim whispered.

"Morning baby clown" _____________________________________________

They ate together, silence surrounding them in the most comfortable way.

Jason couldn't exactly point it out but something about Tim made him.... just feel whole. Like he didn't felt since he woke up six feet deep.

Both of them were in Jason clothes and Jason found out that for some unknown reason, white looked better at pale skin.

And Tim.. Tim was the most beautiful human he saw. His blue eyes, his black long hair, and this perfect smile. Jason started asking what he fucking did right to get this angel. _____________________________________________

He didn't knew how it happened but Tim's hot wet mouth was on him and he was practically in heaven.

His hands gripped the black hair and pulled slightly, making Tim moan and himself gasping as the moans vibrate on him.

He was definitely in heaven and this angel between his legs was the most perfect thing to ever happen to him.

"Oh God" he said and moaned Tim's name, his legs shacking.

"Tim I'm about to-" and with that he came down Tim's throat, the angel swallowed it and looked him in the eyes, giving him this beautiful smile. And well, Jason might die happy this time around. _____________________________________________

This night he hugged Tim closed to him, the smaller man hugging him back.

Outside the words 6 Days colored the black sky with pink, green and yellow.

_____________________________________________

It was simple. Very simple, and Jason did it already so why the hell is he freaking out?

Harley and Ivy started a riot somewhere in the city while Catwoman helped them in Arkham and said that she's going to take care of the security. So from there they were alone.

And it wasn't like he didn't knew the plane by heart, it's just that it really is happening. He's going to kill the Joker. They're going to kill the Joker.

And it's not a dream. The mother fucking clown is going to laugh for the last time. _____________________________________________

Each floor has a minimum of two guards, thanks to Killer Croc Arkham was down six guards, so floors 1-3 only had one guard each during the day (Because Gotham’s criminals are all geniuses and think that night is the best time for a breakout).

So doubling up only happened at night on these floors until the guards either recovered or replacements were vetted and hired.

Floors 4-5 had double guards at all times and floor 6 was more storage and extra holding cells than anything else right now.

Thanks to Harley and Ivy's riot there weren't a lot of guards where they were, everyone waiting to catch the two. Catwoman didn't lied about helping them from afar as every door opened to them without problems. _____________________________________________

The elevator doors opened at the fourth floor, Jason noted that there weren't any guards around, wondering what Catwoman did as he heard the muffled noise of an alarm from the floor above them.

Jason walked to the guard station and peeked in to see two men slumped over and unconscious. From the looks of it they have been knocked out, 'help from afar ha?' he thought to himself, smiling a little. Looking over at Tim, the little clown being too quite for so long, the teen smiled, his skin somehow more pale than normal, and his gun at hand. Jason nodded to him and Tim did the peace sign.

They followed a hallway around behind the booth and came up on a large metal door. They waited couple of seconds and the door opened, revealing another hallway with another large metal door several yards down. There were three such doors in their's way and each one opened and closed behind them, making them closer and closer to the goal.

Jason paused and took a deep breath before the final door. This is it. This stupid clown is as good as dead. The door opened.

And there was the Joker, laying on a thin metal like bed that was bolted to the wall.

All that stood between them and the Joker was a wall of bulletproof wall with several inches thick with small round air holes cut evenly to allow air to flow into the (if it could even be called that) room.

The Joker slowly rolled off the bed when he saw them, and came to stand in front of the clear wall, a sick smile on his face. “Well, well, well, what have we here? Visitors? Oh, I know you!" He said as he looked at Tim, his grin getting wider "You're my little lamb. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!”

Jason's heart started to beat faster, looking at Tim's hand gripping the gun so tight that his fingers turned whiter than usual.

"I'm not" Tim said, his voice quite.

"What did you said little lamb? Talk louder for papa"

Tim smiled, a small smile that made Jason question if he's going to follow the plan or not.

And of he really think about it, he was never told about this part of the plan... How will they kill the Joker?

"JJ?"

"I'm not a fucking lamb you old fucker" Tim said and shoot.

[my-one-love-is-music]

(365)

Here it is. My last drabble after an entire year of writing. If you want some mood music, check this out. And I thought I’d do something a little fun and unique for this last one.

Molim sighed and tapped their finger against their chin. They paced around their living room, staring at where their computer was resting on their desk, waiting for them to put their fingers to the keys and create something new. The cursor was blinking at them, mocking them for the challenge they’d so foolishly started a year ago.

A post and ficlet every day had seemed like so little at first. They’d thought it to be a challenge they wouldn’t have any trouble completing. Sure, the idea was grand and momentous, but they always went overboard when it came to writing fic, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. It would just be another series of writing.

But after being in the midst of it all? After months spent writing new drabbles and coming up with new ideas to keep things fresh and exciting? After panicked nights and weekends if a drabble accidentally got deleted right before posting, or they thought they were losing all sense of creative capacity, they were starting to understand just what they’d gotten themself into.

They ran a hand through their hair, fingers scratching through their shaved undercut. The top strands were getting too long. They’d need to get it cut soon. They shook their head, there would be time for that later, there was something else that needed to be done first.

They smiled, the vague strand of an idea coming to them. A spark that could lead to something great if it was nurtured and crafted just right.

They hurried over to their desk and sat down, pulling their legs up to sit cross-legged on the seat and get comfortable as they prepared to settle in and write.

This next post needed to be amazing and exciting. It needed to pull their readers into yet another new world and tale Molim was weaving at the tips of their fingers. They’d covered so many different ships and tropes over the year. Most of their posts had been jaytim, but sheith was also big on their list. They’d even broached into Birdflash for the first time and had a few drabbles about Winterhawk. And of course, they had some fun posting original works as well to test the waters for the hell of it.

They smiled. Their tropes had been all over the place. They’d finished the fix-it fic The Nearly Dead Adventures of Tim Drake, posting that one and several other jaytim and sheith on AO3 because of popular demand. And it helped to keep the chapters in one place for any readers who wanted to return to it later or keep up with updates.

They’d tackled the barista au, the werewolf au, and even went along with a mermaid au during the entirety of May which later came back to life from a different angle involving Birdflash. They dabbled in amnesia fic and a frat boy and punk boy college au. And of course the pastel and punk au that every fandom needed. There’d been some angst, but most of it was happy, keeping things light as the year continued and lives fluctuated. As Molim’s life fluctuated and changed.

Molim had told many stories so far, but there were so many more they wanted to write and share and give to the people around them and their readers. Stories brought people together and writing was something they never tired of.

Molim tapped their index fingers on the keys of their laptop. The motion wasn’t hard enough to press the key and make a letter appear, but it gave them a moment to think as the words and ideas slowly became concrete in their mind, begging to be put on the page and crafted into something beautiful.

Their smile widened as they entered the number at the top of the post. So many days and posts and now number three-six-five. This post was a year in the making. Everything was culminating at this point in their life. They scratched their head, sweeping the hair out of their eyes before moving the cursor down to the body of the post to start to write.

The words came slowly at first, forming in their brain before they moved down to their fingertips and were poured onto the page. After the first couple of sentences, they hit the ‘Enter’ key and moved to the second paragraph.

Things came faster, the words slowly beginning to spin around Molim as they continued to write. Their ideas became stronger, life given to the words and the characters as they came to life on the page, ready to be released into the world to offer new meaning and experience.

The characters’ hearts beat in time with Molim’s, their emotions shared between them as they both experienced fear, loss, happiness, excitement, and...love. They shared friendships and romance and family and the best and worst parts of life as they lived a thousand different lives and experienced it all at once.

Light poured from Molim’s fingers as they continued to write. The light of life that made the characters and the stories larger and bigger than the pixelated letters and words that were confined to one small tumblr post.

The story grew, a world of its own that housed people who were very much as real as the author and readers themselves as they shared and lived those lives and experienced things that might not have happened to them otherwise.

Molim sat back as the last sentence was completed. Despite the outpouring of words and care and emotion, they didn’t feel any less empty. Instead, they felt bolstered, stronger because of what they’d crafted and had the chance to share with the rest of the world.

Each post had touched lives that Molim wouldn’t have met otherwise. Their project had become bigger than their own being and no matter how they finished it, they knew that there was nothing that could begin to encompass or pay back the joy, fear, tears, and love that had been experienced during the past year.

There was nothing Molim could write that could even begin to communicate how much their reader’s responses meant to them and how much bigger this felt than their small five foot three inch person.

They became aware of their beating heart in their chest as they reached the bottom of the post, reading the words once more. They placed a hand over their heart and felt overwhelming pride and joy at what they’d done.

They reached out, sliding their finger on the smooth surface of their laptop’s track pad--careful not to accidentally delete the whole post like that one mistake they’d make a few months into the project--and hovered the cursor over the blue button in the bottom corner.

Molim let out a breath and hit ‘Post,’ letting the story be taken from them yet again and sent out into the wide expanse beyond their home. They sat back in their chair, eyes falling shut as everything they’d worked for finally came to a close.

This wasn’t the end, though. Just the end of one chapter. What would come next was uncertain. Gone was the security of knowing that whatever happened, this project would be there, but uncertainty could still be exciting and joyful.

This chapter had already encompassed the beginning and end of a relationship, a graduation, many professional jobs, a move, a funeral, the birth of new friendships and the end of old ones, and many coming outs.

The next chapter would no doubt hold just as many, if not more, surprises.

And it was time for Molim to turn the page.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[chibinightowl]

Bakery AU Jaytim if you’re still doing prompts? 💕

I am! But I think I’ll save the rest of the ones I received for this next weekend. It was a fun way to spend my downtime at work. 

After the last prompt I filled, I decided I need to end my day on a fluffy note. Have some sweetness! ~*~

Tim bites his tongue as he concentrates on carefully icing the delicate cupcake in front of him. It’s a special order for a wedding and he wants each one to be perfect. Stephanie teases him for being too intent on his decorating but it’s the meticulous nature of it that appeals to him in the first place. That and the creative freedom. He still can’t believe he runs a small business — and a bakery to boot. How far the Drake name has fallen. Whatever, Tim’s happy and that’s all that matters. He took what little inheritance he got after his parent’s death (that survived the conservatorship while he was in the foster system) and promptly invested it. Baking always served as an escape for him, and his foster grandma encouraged it and taught him all kinds of things, so after he graduated high school, he went to culinary school to become a pastry chef. The intense pace of restaurant life didn’t suit him, so he sold all his stocks and bought a food truck where he started selling cupcakes and other easy to make (but no less delicious) baked goods. Thanks to his tech savvy, Tim maintained a strong presence on social media and soon his business grew. After six months, he hired Stephanie as his baking assistant and they hit it off fabulously, with her bright energy contrasting nicely against his somewhat intense personality. And now, here he is with his own storefront. Stephanie still takes the truck out during peak hours but now Tim stays behind for the most part to hide in his kitchen and simply create. Customers occasionally interrupt but most of his work now comes from special orders. Like the six dozen black forest cake cupcakes with a dark cherry filling and a blood red buttercream frosting dusted with edible gold glitter. They’re for a gothic inspired wedding, which Tim finds awesome. If there’s one thing he’s learned over the last few years, it’s the eclectic crowd that inspires his creativity the most. “Tim!” Steph all but shouts as she comes bursting into the kitchen. He’s used to it so he barely startles and keeps working. “Oh. My. God. You won’t believe who just walked in and asked for you.” “Let me guess. Mickey Mouse?”That earns him a smack upside the back of his head. “No! It’s Jason Wayne.” It takes a moment for the name to sink in. When it does, Tim drops his piping tube. “You’re shitting me.” Jason Wayne. Second son (adopted) of Bruce Wayne. Formerly Robin and now Redwing. Tim is a fan. A massive fan. He’s been a fan of Robin since he first figured out Dick Grayson was Batman’s sidekick at the tender age of 9. But Jason…Tim always kind of considered him his Robin, especially after the night he rescued a younger Tim from some gang on his way home from the library late one night. His foster family didn’t live in the best part of town but it wasn’t the worst either. “I know!!” Steph all but squeals as she shoves him toward the door. “He says he has a special order he wants to run by you. Now get out there!” She picks up the piping bag to take over. The cupcakes have to be done in a couple hours. Tim stumbles through the door but he still takes a moment to glare back over his shoulder at his friend and assistant. “Just be careful with those!”“Since when am I not? You taught me how to do it, Mr. Picky-Pants.” His ears burn as Tim turns around to greet his famous customer. Of course he heard that. Jason leans casually against the counter and grins at him. “She’s feisty, huh?”“You have no idea.” Tim rubs his hands on his icing smeared apron and grimaces when they’re still red. “Uhh, excuse me if I don’t shake your hand.”“Don’t worry about it. A little icing never hurt anyone.” Jason holds out his hand. “I’m Jason Wayne.”“I know,” Tim replies and then blinks. “Umm. Sorry. Tim Drake.” He shakes Jason’s hand. It’s big and warm and wow, there’s a lot of scars on his knuckles. Jason must notice where Tim’s eyes land. “I box and do some MMA,” he offers. “Oh. Yeah.” Tim reluctantly lets go and tries to put his business face on, much to the dismay of his inner fanboy who is screaming and bouncing in glee at meeting one of his heroes. “So! Steph says you want me to make something for you?” The taller man chuckles easily. He must be used to this. “I am. Normally we have Alfred make cakes, but he just broke his foot and he’s getting up there in age, so I thought maybe we’d contract out this year.” “Oh? What’s the occasion?” “Damian’s 15th birthday.” Jason doesn’t sound enthused. Even Tim’s heard and seen stories about how challenging the youngest Wayne (and current Robin) is. “Gotcha. So, teenager then.” His wheels are already turning. He grabs a pad of paper and a pencil and then heads over to a small table in the front of the shop. “Come into my office,” Tim jokes. Jason takes a seat, his long legs sticking out from either side of the table. The denim of his jeans strains over his incredibly muscular thighs and Tim does his best not to whimper. But it’s hard because the man just hits every single one of his buttons. It’s not fair.“What does Damian like?”The question garners an eye roll from Jason. “Sharp pointy objects. Art. Dogs. Any music that involves a symphony orchestra.”Tim’s done dog cakes before and even one that resembled Monet’s garden, which had been a bitch and a half. “So, a violin perhaps? Oh! Maybe a throwing star! Does he like ninja?” He gets all excited and starts sketching, completely missing the sharp look Jason gives him. “He hates ninja, but loves throwing stars. He’s got a few,” the man replies cautiously. But Tim’s in the zone, drawing a design for a modified star-shaped cake and sharpening the edges, tightening some lines and widening others. “I haven’t seen one since I stopped watching Naruto, but I think it’s something like this.” He shows Jason the drawing. He stares at it a moment before grinning broadly. “That looks fucking awesome. You think you can pull it off?” Tim scoffs. “I don’t see why not. It’s laying flat after all. Unless I can get it to stand…” the wheels start to turn again but Jason brings him back to the present by actually waving his hand in Tim’s face. “Slow your roll there, Timmers. Flat is fine.” “Oh. Okay.” He can’t help the slightly disappointed feeling that he won’t get a chance to really show off for his favorite Robin. Tim forces himself to focus. “So what kind of flavors does Damian like?”Jason rattles off a list of some definitely uncommon tastes, but by the end, Tim only has one idea and he can’t wait to give it a try. “I wonder if I can make a spiced chai cake.” “That…that would be awesome if you can pull it off.” Jason sounds impressed. Tim is already making a shopping list as star anise and cardamom aren’t spices he keeps on hand. “I’ll have to make some samples to see how it turns out. Are you available at all for a tasting?” Another really important question comes to mind and Tim brushes his bangs away from his face. “When do you need this by?” Jason’s staring at him in bemusement. “Two weeks. I know it’s short notice with what I saw online but I was kinda hoping maybe you’d make an exception.” Tim laughs at him. “I’m making Damian Wayne’s birthday cake. Even if it’s just for a small party, that kind of exposure is huge for a little business like mine. I’d be a fool not to.”“In that case, I can stop by next week for a tasting,” Jason says and stands. This meeting is apparently over, at least for now. “That should be plenty of time. This is going to be fun.” Tim knows he sounds eager and doesn’t care.

Jason smiles again, and Tim wants to just melt because it’s so unlike the playboy smile he sees on TV or his Instagram feed (because of course he follows Jason Wayne). “You really like a challenge, don’t you?” he asks.

“I love a good challenge,” Tim agrees, grinning back at his hero.

“So do I.” Jason hesitates, then reaches out and runs his thumb over Tim’s cheek. It comes back red, which Tim swears could probably be from the amount of blood rushing to his face because Jason just touched him. “You always covered in frosting?”

For once, Tim’s brain lines up with his mouth and he says something that sounds clever. “Only on special occasions.”

Or not.

But Jason smirks and raises his thumb to his mouth, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste the red frosting that has apparently been on Tim’s face the entire time they were speaking. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He takes the pencil and pad of paper from Tim and writes something on it before handing it back. “See you soon.”

Tim stands there petrified as Jason walks out and drives away in an absolutely sick red car that screams money and horsepower. Once he’s out of sight, he looks down at the pad of paper.

There’s a phone number written next to his picture. More importantly, there’s a little note in a bold print.

I wonder if you taste as good as your frosting?

[pixl-king]

Angels and Demons || Jaytim

Plot: Jason Todd is a demon who loves to pick on, and tease, certain celestial beings. Especially one named Timothy Drake. Tim being assigned to keep an eye on the demon, who’s assigned to wreak havoc in Gotham.

Words: 2393

Jason Todd was the devil. Well, no. He wasn’t actually the devil, but he worked for the man. And he was devilishly handsome and naughty - in all the right ways. He was the best of the best, and he loved his job.

Not long ago he was offered a promotion, which he’d gladly accepted. It meant that he was now not only allowed to visit the human world, he was also allowed to play in it - or work, as it was called. No longer at the sidelines, like some vegetable, he was out walking the streets of his favorite city.

Gotham.

Yes, Gotham was truly a city of mad chaos and it was so much fun riling it up. Its inhabitants so easily affected by his whispers, smothering wicked touch. The entire area so pliable, so eager to follow his every will. And who was he to deny them what they truly wanted.

There was also another reason for his current obsession of Gotham. Not just for the many, oh so many, crooks and criminals. Gotham was not only under the wicked eye of the devil himself, it was also seemingly a place of interest to the ones upstairs.

The ones upstairs meaning Mr. Divinity and his little peace preaching minions. They were almost twice as fun to mess with. So stuck up, chins in the air and were always a bit too good to get into real fights.

He had managed to rial one of them up once, and damn they actually could throw a neat right hook. But Jason hadn’t seen that one since, perhaps he’d been grounded by those little goody two shoes prisses. Sentenced to stand in a corner for a decade or two.

Jason slithered up next to a young man, stepping into his walk and sneered, leaning closer. “She won’t mind, you deserve some fun. After all, you provide for this family.” He walked along side of the human for the rest of the block till he spotted a redhead and jumped over into her lane. “Use a gun, less messy.” He whispered as if they could be overheard.

And with each whisper, with every idea he put into their precious little minds, he was given a glimmer - like a shooting star across their irises, showing just how weak they truly were. It made him laugh, almost giggle as he stepped back looking around for more.

“Next one to rob Walmart wins a lollipop!” With ease, he jumped up, balancing on a fire hydrant. His army boots squeaking against the red metal beneath him even though he was quite weightless. Pros of not living.

“Hey Bob, looking good today!” Jason called out with a thumbs up to a man walking down the streets in suit and tie, hurrying his steps.

“Thanks Jason!” The round and bald man smiled as he walked passed, apparently a donut in hand.

“I like what I see! Don’t listen to Susan, donut day is everyday! You own that cardiac arrest!” He called out and waved the man off as he turned corner.

Some demons had once been human, and Jason found himself spending most of his free time among those. Sure angels were stuck up, but damn, pure demons were depressing as hell sometimes.

His ‘precinct’ consists of Bob - a heavily overweight demon who died from cardiac arrest a few years back. Susan - a young, way to stuck up, demon who needs to take a lesson in how to actually be a demon. Roy - like Jason, demon… born? Or existing, at least. Never was born. One day they’d not existed and then another they just had. And Jason was the squad leader. His troupe of vicious trouble makers that he’d chosen to station in Gotham.

Most dressed as lawyers, the true demons of the human world. But Jason had found a preference in leather jackets and army boots.

“Now, where was I…” He spun around on the metal lump and looked around. “Ohh yes…” He grinned and hurried, catching up to a couple of teens. Satan, he loved patrol days.

“Russell's kind of cute, isn’t he Mark?” He wrapped his arm over one teens shoulders, knowing that they wouldn’t see him, but sense the slightest addition of weight. “And Ross is a total slut, really, why won’t Joanne break up with him?” He leaned over towards another pimpled covered highschooler.

Falling behind the squad of now arguing kids, he brushed off the thick layer of Axe body spray and cologne that had been left covering him.

“Picking on teenagers today, are we?” A familiar voice made its way into Jason’s ears and the demon turned around with an even wider grin than the one he hosted during his lone working hours.

“Timmers! You made it! I have to be honest, I did think you’d sleep in today, maybe no even show up, but then I remembered you were an angel and that you’d most likely receive the death sentence - if you allowed it - just from that. So I wasn’t too worried.”

Just as expected, the celestial being was perched up on a fire escape, dangling his leg over the railing as the other was raised up, bent and resting on top of it. With one arm draped over his knee, the angel moved back some of that jet black hair that made Jason’s chest jump.

“I’m assigned to monitor you Jason, we have this talk every morning.” He sighed and leaned against the brick wall. Wings sloping down towards the ground just like his leg.

“Yes, but you still haven’t agreed on monitoring me during nights, so I’ll just keep bring that one up till you do.” He winked and the angle sighed once again with an eye roll added to it.

“I don’t fucking care Greg! I swear, one more word and..” Jason grinned and stroke his fingers over a passing woman’s back. Gently grazing her shoulder blades before pulling back his ghoulish hand. “You know what... IT’S OVER.” She yelled into the phone with a suddenly renewed furious expression over her face.

Jason turned back to his babysitter just in time to see the boy flick his finger, sending a droplet of light that, sure enough, hit the woman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I think we should talk. I’ll be home in a few hours…” And she was without reach of the ear, even for the two supernatural creatures.

“Always such a party pooper.” Jason shook his head disapprovingly and started walking down the street once again. Not long after, there was a low huff of heavy wings and Tim was walking beside him, hands folded behind his back as he walked.

“You shouldn’t complain so much, I can tell you that your college, Roy, has it way worse.” Tim said with a low smile and Jason glanced back at him.

“Yeah, how’s that? Who could possibly be worse than you?” He teased the boy and was obnoxiously stretching himself out over the streat to graze as many as possible. Tim’s wings fluttering behind them, sending low winds of air that erased all of his hard work.

“You haven’t met my brother Dick.” The angel let out a light laughter and instead of sneering at the disgustingly purity of it, Jason smiled as well.

----

“Yet another day ruined by you angels.” Jason sighed and pouted, shoving Tim in the side as they looked down at the city below. Standing on top of the highest building of Gotham, Tim shoved the other back.

He wasn’t like the other angels. Wasn’t afraid to talk back, or shove back for that matter. Jason liked it, just as much as he liked the idea of an angel at his mercy.

No matter the feud that had been constant and still ongoing between their kinds, Tim’s heavy and strong wings were gorgeous. His strong torso keeping them steady and with such pride. He didn’t wear those ridiculously white suits like so many other angels did. Thank god for that.

Yes. Jason was ready to thank GOD for that.

Whilst the rest of the celestials walked around looking like a mix between an eighties boy band and funeral home workers, Tim wore black jeans and a loose cotton shirt tucked into them. Sleeves rolled up and sneakers accompanying it; he looked like a dream.

Jason looked back at the other. “Ever considered going rogue, joining the dark side. Think you’d enjoy it.” He smirked and folded his hands, leaning his forearms against the railing and almost bending over the metal pipe. “Demons can’t rise, but angels can always fall.”

“I’m good for now.” Tim said and looked out below them. Somehow, this had become routine.

“I just don’t get the whole angel deal.” Jason leaned even further over the railing, threatening a fall that’d cause him no harm. But he liked the slightly worried look that spread across the angels face.

“What part? I’ve already explained the wings and anatomy.” Tim asked shooting glances at Jason's feet that were lifting to lean over the metal fence, standing on his toes.

He heaved himself back and was now leaning back towards the roof instead, like a bored child. “Yes, and that was a great talk.” A smile like the devil spreading across his face. “But like, the whole doing good thing. I’m just letting them carry out their true desires.” He pointed out and actually pointed at Tim. “You guys are taking that away.”

Tim raised an eyebrow and leaned against the railing, but to his side so he was facing Jason. “Really?” He said in disbelief. “So what about the regret they experience after it all? After the lying, cheating and murdering.”

“Well that’s a part of life babe.” Jason dismissed his argument and leaned forwards once again. “You just have to learn to live with it.” And he fell. The gusting air capturing him as the streets grew closer. But never really hit. Before he’d passed even halfway down the side of the building, he felt two arms around him, and his closed, peaceful eyes slid open satisfactory.

“See, action - consequence - regret.” The angle was looking at him as if he was a headache waiting to happen but shook his head with a low smile.

“You don’t look too remorseful.” He said as he placed Jason back down on the rooftop.

“Well that’s just a part of my charm.” Jason shrugged and felt gravity take its share of him as his feet touched the ground. “But I do what I want. Can you say the same?”

“I do what I’m supposed to.” The angel said simply and took a step back, only to be followed by Jason.

“Why not more?” He teased, leaning into the other’s space, without touching.

“Can’t piss off the big guy too much.” Tim said, but Jason could’ve sworn he saw the luminous skin grow slightly red, which was just enough.

“How ‘bout just a little then?” His arm folded around the shorter man, yanking him close and capturing those devine lips in a kiss.

Tim’s arms were on his chest in a heartbeat, but not pushing him away. They were holding the fabric of his leather jacket and joining in. Jason let a low growl escape his lips at the feeling of Tim’s fingers reaching over his neck, burying themself in his hair, whilst his own enjoyed scoping out the lean build of an angel. Sliding down, stroking over the dimples far down his back and down to the pockets of Tim’s jean, he pushed their pelvises together, rolling his hips against Tim’s. The angel groaned, biting Jason’s lip and Jason felt dizzy for it.

His tongue rolled against divinity and it was amazing. Saliva mixing and teeth crashing together, but nonetheless amazing.

All of the sudden the angel stopped and pulled back. His hands had found their way to Jason’s head, where they were now wrapping around two short spikes. “You have horns?” He asked with a confused and surprised expression, fighting to regain the breath that’d been lost in the kiss.

“What? Didn’t teach you that in Sunday school, did they?” Jason grinned, also taking heavy breaths and squeezing the other’s ass in content.

“Oh, shut up.”

“HE SWORE” Jason gasped and laughed.

“Jesus Christ, Jason.” The angel rolled his eyes but then pulled the demon down with a grin, meeting his lips and giving in to what he’d so sinfully longed for, for so long.

---

“Hey boss!” Bob was sitting at his desk as Jason walked into what honestly looked like a messy police department. Bob was having breakfast; an egg mcmuffin, a danish and a starbucks drink. Hell yeah Bob. 

“Mornin’ big guy.” Jason saluted the demon and walked past his desk that was the closest to the entrance.

“Susan.” He gave a short nod to the woman who had her nose deep in paperwork, only looking up for a split second to acknowledge Jason’s arrival.

He fell down into his office chair, spinning a few laps before settling at his desk, dumping his heavy boots on top of it. He grabbed a couple of files marked coerced and skimmed through them to later have Bob send them down to the archives.

“Any new interesting cases?” Jason asked, throwing the pile back on the already messy desk.

“Got requests for some politicians and scientists.” Bob informed and held up a bunt of paper folders marked targets.

“Hit me.” Jason said and soon there was a case flying towards him. Caught in one swift movement, he started reading. Soon to be interrupted though, as a loud redhead walked in.

“Hey, jackass!”

Jason looked up at the so endearing nickname and his eyebrows reached for his forehead. “What’s up Roy?” He asked and let the case rest over his lap.

“I waited all night at the bar yesterday! Where the hell were you?” Roy almost spat, shoving Jason’s paperwork down from his desk to sit.

Jason eyes lazily followed the ruckus and then refocused on Roy.

“You better have a great fucking excuse.” He threatened. “There were military officers there Jason. Military. Officers.”

“I do have an excuse though.” Jason said and picked up the file again, in disinterest of his friends own story.

“Yeah, right. What?”

“Fucked an angel.”

“Knew you wouldn’t ha- Wait, WHAT!?”

[xseaxwitchx]

Pining and Pizza [Part 2]

Fandom: DC Comics

Relationship: One-sided JayTim (technically)

Words: 2,124

Warnings: Implied horrible things for anyone not straight that’s open about it

Summary: The title, I feel, is self-explanatory.

A/N: This is part 2 to what originally was supposed to be a one-shot, but a second part was requested. So, without further ado, here ya go!

Part 1

Tim stood beside Jason, not really looking at the movies but instead trying to catch Jason in his peripheral vision. Why? He wasn’t sure.

“How about this?” Jason asked as he stood straight and held the movie case out to Tim. R.I.P.D he saw on the cover. “Sounds interesting. Any good?”

“Well,” Tim said, “it’s funny. Kinda sad at some point, but overall funny.”

Jason nodded his head definitively, making his way over to the television set that had the DVD player. Tim went to sit on the couch, cross-legged, waiting for Jason. As he bent down to put the DVD in, Tim couldn’t help the thoughts that entered his mind when he saw Jason’s butt. He pulled the hood down to completely cover his face, trying to fight off the thoughts. Stupid, stupid, stupid, thought Tim. There’s no way he’s going to see you romantically. Plus, he’s straight, isn’t he? Wait, you don’t know that for sure. Argh, why me?!

Tim startled out of his thoughts by Jason tugging on his sleeve. “You okay, Timbo?”

He let go of his hood, hands going to his lap, face dusted pink. Jason lifted the hood, peeking at Tim’s face and saw the light blush. “Why are you blushing? Have someone on the mind?” Jason and his goddamn smirk. Jason and his goddamn wiggling eyebrows. Jason and his goddamn...him. Goddamnit.

Jason laughed, yanking down the hood, Tim lurching forward a little with the force. He collapsed next to Tim, feet going up onto the coffee table, hands in his lap. Tim took off his hood, little attention on the TV, most attention on Jason. Why was Tim freaking out tonight? The crush had been blossoming for about five months now, and Tim never became as flustered as tonight. Why? He wished he knew.

Jason pressed play when the menu popped up, then placed the remote on the coffee table. As he reached over, the back of his shirt rode up, revealing part of his lower back as Tim turned his head to ask Jason a question. Tim had to swallow, struggling to control his blush and mind. At this rate, he might become more blush than human. “Hey, Jay? You want some chicken nuggets? I was gonna go make some, and wanted to know if you wanted any.” Tim surprised himself by keeping a steady and unsuspecting tone.

“Timmers, unlike you, I had food today. And just ate pizza. Maybe later, but for now, go take care of yourself and make chicken nuggets before I slap you,” Jason answered. Ah, tough love.

“Okay.” Tim pushed himself off the couch, padded his way to the kitchen, then to the cabinets for a microwavable plate. His mind wandered as his hands did. He debated whether or not to tell Jason his feelings or just wait to see if the crush would go away in time. All his being would love the second option, but his reactions tonight say otherwise. He absentmindedly threw open the freezer for the chicken nuggets, threw them on a plate, and stuck the plate in the microwave.

“What would be the worst that could happen?” Tim started muttering to himself, hoping Jason wouldn’t be able to hear him over the TV. “He says no, then the friendship or whatever the fuck we have is strained, then he runs, never speaks to you again, then you fall into--”

The beep of the microwave interrupted his muttering, indicating his chicken nuggets heated. He opened the microwave and let out a hiss at the hot temperature of the plate as he went to grab it. After a few seconds, he went to reach for the plate again, fingers stinging from the plate, but the temperature bearable.

His feet softly hit the floor as he tried to elongate the journey to the couch. Alas, it only took him all of 15 seconds.

The plate of chicken nuggets he set on the coffee table and returned to his place on the couch. The chicken nuggets slowly disappeared over the course of 20 minutes. Jason side-eyed him a few times, but for what, Jason didn’t know.

Tim started to scooch closer to Jason, seeing how close he could get without Jason saying anything. Soon, their shoulders barely touched, just sweeping by each other. Tim decided to try his luck; he scooched over until they were flushed together and he leaned his head slightly onto Jason’s shoulder. Just his luck that Jason turned to look at him as best he could. Tim’s head shot straight off and he backed up as Jason threw him a questioning look.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind...much,” said Tim, an edge of panic in his voice.

“Mmm, I don’t care. Just a little surprised because it’s only nine o’clock; didn’t think you���d be tired already,” Jason responded, hoping to relax the other man.

“So, can I?” Tim asked, referencing to leaning his head on Jason’s shoulder. Jason quirked an eyebrow in a “really?” expression. He happily made his way back to Jason, bodies flush against each other, head on Jason’s shoulders. They continued to watch the movie, neither saying a word to the other. Eventually, Tim’s arms wrapped themselves around the other man’s arm, him snuggling into Jason. Both remained oblivious to this action.

At the end of movie, Tim stretched one of his arms up, yawning. He didn’t remember ever feeling so tired, but safe and warm enough to comfortably let himself be so. His arm returned to its original position.

Jason peered down, now noticing their positions. All of a sudden, Jason felt awkward. He cleared his throat and was just about to ask Tim something when he heard mumbling. “What was that?” he asked.

Tim, mind hazy with exhaustion, repeated his words louder without thinking: “I love you, Jay.” He snuggled deeper into the man, unaware of his predicament until he felt himself being pulled away. His eyes blinked a couple of times before his mind caught up. When it did, his eyes widened in shock as he crab-walked to the other side of the couch to try to get as far away from Jason as possible. His face grew tomato-red and he once again grabbed the hood of his onesie and yanked it down over his face to save himself from seeing Jason’s shocked face.

“Tim?” called Jason. His feet came off the coffee table, one leg folded onto the couch and the other sitting on the floor, facing Tim.

“Tim’s not here right now; this is a hologram,” Tim responded, albeit slightly muffled due to the hood. Jason smiled a small smile to himself as he moved over to Tim. He took Tim’s wrists in his hands, tugging gently to get Tim to lower them and let go of the hood. Reluctantly, Tim let him. As Tim’s hands found his lap, Jason reached up to remove the hood, taking in Tim’s face.

“Tim? Tim, look at me,” Jason told him. He looked up, and their eyes locked. He felt himself shrink under Jason’s intense gaze, crumple and wishing to implode, to disappear; he couldn’t believe he let those words slip from his mouth in his tired state, and using “love” of all words.

Jason’s hands returned his own lap. He sighed, breaking eye contact and sweeping a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth to start, but Tim beat him to the punch. “Look,” started Tim, then drew a shaky breath. Tim took a moment to compose himself and Jason, interested in what Tim had to say, closed his mouth and gave Tim his full attention.

“Jay,” Tim started once again, hands tense as he gripped his legs in anxiety, “I-I, uh, meant it in a brotherly way, like, you’re my big bro. I mean, what other way is there to take it? Romantically? Psshh, that’s...no. What? Ri-ridiculous and--”

“Stop,” Jason interrupted him. “You and I both know that’s rambling bullshit. Tell me what it meant.”

“Fine,” Tim said, utterly defeated and cornered. “I like you. Not in a companionable way, not a brotherly way, not a friendly way. I like you as in, like you like you. I, uh, I have for awhile. I mean, after I go to know the real you. At first, I was attracted to you--your jawline, your arms, your eyes. Ya know, physically. Over time, I came to like your compassion, your heart, your sarcasm, your tough love, your...everything. Before I knew it, I was falling hard. You-You don’t have to do anything, of course, but then again, you were never supposed to know, then it sort of slipped out and now--”

Jason pressed a finger to his lips to silence him, a smile playing at his lips and sadness in his eyes. “Tim, let me tell you a story about me.” He put his hand down.

“I remember when I was a kid on the streets, when I was old enough to understand, I knew I was definitely attracted to girls. But I would occasionally find myself attracted to some male celebrities on the TV when I was allowed to watch with my mom. I remember the first time I told her, she sighed and told me to never tell anyone, to only date girls when I got older. When I was 12, I asked her why. I’m not retelling that part to you. Anyway, I was turned off by men when I heard what she told me and the fact that there was not one boy my age who wasn’t in a gang or violent for the wrong reasons.

“When I was Robin, romance left my mind because I was too excited to finally make more of a difference with Batman. I fell in love with the job and the quality education I was finally able to get. Of course, as soon as I hit puberty I died.

“After coming back from the dead, well, ya know. I didn’t exactly have romance on the brain.” Jason sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Then he continued.

“Of course, after that fiasco was over, Roy, Kori, and I teamed up for Red Hood and the Outlaws. One night, after Roy and I got piss drunk, we had sex. I don’t remember much, neither does he, about that night. All we know is that it happened and I found myself curious about men again. Not Roy, though. I love him like a brother.”

Tim sat patiently, listening and hanging on to every word. Chalk what he just heard to the list of things he didn’t know about Jason. “So then?” Tim prompted.

Jason continued. “I’ve been too scared, admittedly, to ask any guy out because of the neighborhood I live and work in.”

“But you’re Red Hood. I’ve seen you kick ass!”

“It’s not something you would understand, Tim.” Jason looked on forlornly and Tim felt his heart drop.

“Like I said, you don’t have to do anything,” Tim said dejectedly, sighing.

“No, Tim, you’re right, I don’t,” replied Jason, taking one of Tim’s hands in his. They made eye contact again.

“I can’t say I feel the same way, but, knowing that I wouldn’t have to worry about you too much, I think that maybe I’d like to take a chance,” said Jason.

Tim couldn’t believe what he heard. He must be hallucinating, had too little sleep. Nevertheless, his eyes started to water, lip quivering slightly. He didn’t know whether to cheer or cry.

“I honestly don’t know why you’d genuinely like me because I’m a fucking mess who doesn’t deserve to be loved--”

“Shut the fuck up, Jason,” Tim interjected. He pounced onto Jason, locking his arms around the other man’s neck and they both went tumbling to the floor between the couch and coffee table with an “oof.”

Jason landed on top of Tim, who pulled Jason into a kiss by pulling down on the back of Jason’s neck. What started as a kiss turned into a full make-out session. Jason pulled back, both panting for air. Tim’s hands still found themselves threaded through Jason’s hair, and Tim’s hair a mess from the carpet.

“We...are not...doing anything tonight,” huffed Jason between breaths. Tim whimpered in mock disappointment.

“Movies and cuddles it is, then,” Tim said. “Now get off; you’re becoming too heavy.”

Jason chuckled as he climbed off Tim and settled back on the couch. Tim went to pick the next movie after he adjusted himself. As he passed Jason, Jason smacked his ass playfully.

“Really, Jay? Was that necessary?” Tim said indignantly.

“What? Golden Boy isn’t the only one with a nice ass in this family,” said Jason nonchalantly.