#but damn ucla just has so much more funding and opportunities and just | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hypnoidvoid · 7 years ago

Text

Key to the Jungle (Reddie AU): Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first Reddie fic that I’ve ever written, so I hope you guys enjoy! I hope to post once a week and I have predicted that it will be around 12 chapters. Dedicated to @j0ys for all the encouragement and being my first tumblr friend, I love ya.

Summary: Ecologist!Richie and Nature Photographer!Eddie. Eccentric Dr. Richard Tozier has graduated with his Ph.D in Ecology and was given grant money to conduct his own research in the Amazon basin. He gets a research team, one of them being the very talented nature photographer Eddie Kaspbrak of National Geographic. They could not have predicted the beauty and chaos of the adventures that will ensue.

Pairings: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak, eventually Stan Uris x Bill Denbrough

Word Count: 2,647 words

Warnings: Vulgar language; future chapters will contain angst and NSFW scenes

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

// Link to Read on Ao3 //

[Chapter 1: Preparation]

[Friday, February 21, 2018]

The sun was searing bright in the dead center of the sky, as 1:00 PM was signalled by the aggressive pings going off on Richie’s watch. He hurriedly wrestled with papers, and their accompanied color coordinated post-it notes threatening to fly off, as he jostled them into his shoulder bag that he threw over his head and trotted down the hall from his office to meet with Stan about this upcoming Tuesday. And he knew that if he was even a few minutes late, Stan was going to grumble and roll his eyes into the next dimension. The good ol’ Stanley Uris eye roll, ladies and gentlemen. There was something special about Stan’s signature eye rolls: they were comically dramatic and looked borderline painful, but left you feeling disappointed in yourself even if you did abso-fucking-lutely nothing wrong. Well Richie had quite the reputation of being late, even as a part time professor, and he was making a solid effort to improve his habits.

He rounded the corners of the university’s biology department halls with little to no grace and excitedly threw open Stan’s office door with a loud *THUD* knocking off a poster that had been pinned to the back of the door. He was a mess of frizzy black curls, sporting a toothy grin extending from ear to ear in the archway of Stan’s office. Spatters of freckles painted his pale complexion on just about every patch of his body along with numerous tattoos (some large, some minimalistic), he wore thick horn rimmed glasses of severe prescription, and was overall a whimsical fashion anomaly.

Richie had been waiting for this Tuesday to come for approximately a year now and couldn’t contain his unbearable excitement from any person.

Not no way. Not no how.

He was beaming. After finishing his Ph.D in ecology in record time at the early age of 23, he was given the opportunity at the university to not only teach part time for extra cash, but was also given a significant amount of grant funding to conduct his own research in the Amazon basin for a few months where he’d be able to bring along a team for his trip. His own team?!

My own Justice League of nerds….yowza.

The university was confident that Richie would be producing highly acclaimed work in the future and wanted to provide him the services to do so (and to get their title slapped on his published reports in big, bold, obnoxious lettering). The University of California, Los Angeles was one of the top universities in the entire United States. Man was he a prestigious son of a gun, but he never really took it to heart about how much he naturally excelled. He just always did. It was a normality.

The lanky man was loud, lacked a filter, but carried a magnetism with him that was crafted through wit and overwhelming charm. And over everything….. he was fucking brilliant. Nearing genius. Dr. Richard Tozier could do differential equations in his sleep, but couldn’t coordinate an outfit that matched if his life depended on it. He was a wildlife ecologist who focused primarily on conservation, taking a keen interest in tropical habitats. There was so much dangerous shit in the jungle. Spiders the size of your fingernail that could make you bleed from every pore?

Cool.

Twelve foot snakes that were known to eat small children if they were hungry enough?

Fucking awesome.

Hell, even pissing in the water could send a fish swimming up your dick. Richie was enthralled with the uniqueness of everything in the jungle, because frankly, it seemed like the jungle just didn’t play by any of the rules that the rest of the world abides by. And he admired that.

Stan finished his Ph.D in ornithology about a year after Richie had, despite being the same age. He loved everything about birds, and like Richie, wants to focus on their conservation. Stan thought that birds were God’s gift to the world, and needed to be protected by all means. He began bird watching at a very early age, making careful note of the ones that he observed, and keeping color coded lists of ones he wanted to one day see.

“Stan my Right Hand Man! What a lovely day to see my favorite bird man. The sun is SHININ’, cancer is CURED, racism is ERADICATED, the planets have ALIGNED. Today, my good chap, is a fantastic afternoon”. Richie promptly plopped himself onto the edge of Stan’s desk buzzing with contagious enthusiasm, meanwhile completely ignoring Stan’s pristine organization of his desk.

“Get off my desk Richard, for the last time this place is not the ‘jungle gym of dumbass’” Stan retorted, but with little malice in his voice. A slight smirk even tugged on the corner of his lips. “You’re on time though, so I’ll let you keep your limbs. Now let’s get to business. Did you bring the grant pap-”

“Duh” Richie cut him off with.

“Okay how about the permission sli-”

“Mhmmmmmmmm”

“You’ve gotten all your vaccinations, corre-”

“YES. Yes, and yes to the next two questions I know are about to tumble out of yo’ damn mouth. So instead, let’s go fi-”

Richie tried to diverge, but was in turn cut off by an equally diligent Stanley. “How did you know what I was going to say, dipshit? So please let me finish, my goodness-”

Richie sharply interrupted once more. “Yes, I’ve prepared the laptops with all the data analysis software, and yes I am in touch with Mike about our dock time. He’s even contacted the others and all is set, what did I tell you Staniel?”. With narrowed eyes, Stan slouched in defeat, “Really? Staniel? You are exhausting. I really don’t know how I’ve put up with your incredulous idiocrities for this freaking long. I must be sick in the head”.

Stan was stubborn and hated to be proven wrong, but had a massive soft spot for Richie in his heart (Stan himself may have called it a sore spot), and knew he could never hate the fucktard. Or even slightly dislike him, despite his annoyances. Richie and Stan had been best friends since childhood where they grew up in the quaint town of Derry, Maine. The air in Derry was stifling, the people cold, and the aura of in its entirety was unwelcoming and intolerable. They were each others only comfort and true friends for years, bonding inseparably over their love for science, the environment, and the creatures that inhabit it. And needless to say, they spent a large chunk of their young lives finding creative ways to escape bullies. Richie could be crass, and disgusting, and blatantly rude but Stan ultimately loved him deeply and considered him family. It was a friendship that most would not encounter in a lifetime, and he was grateful for this friend that he could share his life with.

Both were accepted to UCLA the same year, moved to Los Angeles as a team, and were roommates for their entire bout in college only just recently being able to afford to get their own places (a few blocks being the gaping distance from each other).

Looks like acquiring a doctorate would after all pay off in more ways than one, Stan thought mindlessly.

“Ahhhhhhh you love me, I know ya do Stanny boy! Now, let’s go snatch Bev and grab some grub, my stomach is beginning to digest itself”. And with that, Richie slung a long, gangling arm around Stan’s shoulders, and they departed to retrieve Beverly from the lab, both with jovial smiles on their faces.

________________________________________

KNOCK… KNOCKNOCK……KNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCKNOCK

From behind the thick, iron door of the lab Beverly could be quaintly heard shouting “One minute please, I’m getting the samples out of the centrifuges!”

“Bev dearest open the door love, I can’t be waiting all day for this lame centrifuge excuse of booty calling my fine ass, Stanley knows about our insatiable coworker lust!”, Richie sang. Stan groaned and soothingly pinched the bridge of his nose with slight embarrassment, so that his ash blonde curls were forced to shade part of his face.

The door opened in a slow motion, revealing a lively Beverly with raised eyebrows, and a mischievous smirk; her hands boldly rested on both of her hips. Richie loved the way her smile was endearingly crooked, and left front tooth faintly chipped. The perfect people after all, had the most unique imperfections.

“Richie I swear to God I would have gotten you kicked out of this place years ago for sexual harassment if I didn’t find you so entertaining”.

“M’lady you wound me! Now come give papa a hug ya beautiful, wench”. Richie held out both of his arms expectantly and Beverly flung herself into his, as a small child would do to their father after he came home from a long day’s work. They both let out familiar chuckles, and swam in the endearment that they had for one another in that brief moment. Her fiery ginger hair cascaded softly down her back in waves down to her hips as she let herself be immersed in Richie’s bearhug. Richie then placed both his palms on Bev’s shoulders and held her at an arm’s length, staring her straight in the eyes with a mock sternness. The extreme height difference between the two of them would have made this tableau as seen from a stranger very intimidating with Richie standing 6’3”, and Beverly Marsh an average five foot and six inches.

“Now, Miss Marsh. I trust that as my most talented, and may I say favored, field assistant you have prepared my lab materials to endure a long flight as well as waterproofing for the rainforest. The Amazon is unforgiving, and so am I. Do we have an understanding, little dove?”

Beverly lightly shoved Richie’s arms off of her shoulders and snapped into a marine’s saluting position, lowering her voice to crack a “Sir, yes sir!”. As much as Stan found Richie and Beverly’s relationship dysfunctional, he could feel the loving platonic electricity between them and couldn’t help but smile at their banter. They were a refreshing drink of rambunctious tonic water.

Beverly Marsh was in the midst of completing her Master’s degree at UCLA for environmental sciences, and while Richie never had the pleasure of being her professor, he was gifted her assistance for field work and immediately favored her. The other field assistants could go to hell, they all had barbed spikes up their asses and couldn’t handle Richie’s demeanor. Not to mention she was smarter than the others. Maybe not academically (Einstein failed math, Bill Gates dropped out of Harvard yada yada yada), but she had a wit that strongly matched his own and that in itself exemplified enough intelligence. Bev was also wildly freckled, with beautiful red hair that resembled her illustrious personality for adventure. She was an uncontrollable flame; one that could birth innovative creation, and in the blink of an eye cause deadly destruction. Richie hoped he would never have to see that side of Beverly.

_________________________________________

Stan, Beverly, and Richie trolloped towards a small trendy café about a half a block down from the biology department corridors, off of campus to satisfy their growing hunger. Richie ignited the end of a menthol cigarette and puffed on it ferociously to try and curve his appetite, before ashing it on the bottom of his sneaker and tossing it in a proximal trash bin. Just because he littered his lungs didn’t entail him being a litter bug, he was a conservationist remember?

All on the edge of their nerves, at a similar state of “hangry”, they waltz into their favorite local eatery named “Cafe Synapse”***. An appropriate place for a group of biologists to eat at. Stan ordered a black, medium roast coffee complemented with a club sandwich (minus the turkey, due to obvious reasons); Beverly kindly requested french onion soup and side salad along with hibiscus lemonade; Richie ordered a chocolate chip frappuccino and a croissant. The last thing Richie ever needed was more sugar to indulge his ADHD habits, but not even God Almighty himself could stop the Trashmouth from consuming an unhealthy quantity daily.

Stan delicately placed a folded napkin onto his lap, to protect his neatly ironed slacks. He bled order; the tucked in, baby blue button up shirt, the combed curls that could easily become unruly, the freshly polished dress shoes. His cheekbones were even as sharp as his tongue. Everything Stan wore, and did, was thoroughly considered and executed with an impeccable grace.

Except when Stan drank. He could toss back whiskey like nobody’s business and was even roudier than Richie at times. He was the perfect alcohol parallel of a pure Christian girl getting freaky in the sheets behind closed doors as their opposite public persona. And it was priceless to witness, if you were so lucky.

Richie placed both of his hands behind his neck and reclined in his wooden chair to a dangerous incline, “Jesús Crísto Stan, you look like you’re covering up a hard on with that origami napkin on your lap.”

“Fuck you, beep beep Richie” Stan countered with a light-hearted giggle.

Beverly sat forward in her chair and flirtatiously twiddled her finger around a curl framing her face, “Dr. Richie please stop staring at Dr. Stan’s lap like the pervert you are, now that’s just rude”. Richie furrowed his eyebrows, and steadied his chair back on to solid ground. “Just because I float my boat both ways sweetheart doesn’t mean Stan is my type m’kay? Plus Stan denied me access to those pretty li-”

“Oh my god Richie fucking sto-” he intervened.

Richie threw up his hands in a submissive gesture, “Okay okay princess, no more smut I promise.”

“So please do inform Bev and I about your talk with Hanlon. What’s our living situation like? And who are the others joining us on our research trip?” he continued with sincere curiosity.

“Well, Mike said that we’d be living in our own netted huts on the nature preserve. Running water will be provided in certain locations Stan, so don’t worry. I know how much powdering your face at night means to you. And from what I know, Mike will be our host and also act as a guide since he owns and lives on the research station. A fellow named Ben Hanscom will be our medic. A Bill Den-whatever will be our botanist, also there to gain inspiration for his ulterior fictional narratives that he writes for his online blog. I heard he wrote a horror ficlet about a possessed venus fly trap….”. Richie trailed off into a fit of sniggering fidgety squirms imagining a large carnivorous plant taken over by supernatural powers wreaking havoc in Tokyo. That would be an honorable death, Richie thought.

Death by occult man-eating angiosperm. At least it’s not a boring trip to the grave.

“….and I’m not finished yet folks”. Richie motions for a drum roll, and Bev and Stan joyfully play along, using their hands to pat the table.

“We even get our very own nature photographer to document our tomfoolery. Edward Kaspbrak, born and raised in New York City. Oh man, he sounds like a mama’s boy, even more than you Staniel”. Stan followed this remark with presenting Richie with the bird from both hands. Stan never called this action “flipping someone off”. It was giving someone “the bird” or the “double bird”, because god damnit he was an ornithologist with a Ph.D and he deserved this unalienable right to give someone the bird whenever he wanted to. Even rude children.

Little did they know that their future research teammate, Eddie Kaspbrak, had been packed for weeks now and heavily anticipated his Amazonian adventure that would ensue for the next few months.

_________________________________________

CHAPTER NOTES:

**** Cafe Synapse is a real place around UCLA in Los Angeles, and I thought this was a perfect addition to this fic.

I hope you guys loved the introduction, I have SO much more planned, and I am quaking to share the rest with everyone <3 You will also meet one of my favorite versions of Eddie very soon…. Leave me comments, I’m a sap! And let me know if you want to be on the tag list :)

123 notes · View notes

iphoenixrising · 7 years ago

Note

I can't stop thinking about your Dr!Tim verse (This isnt a prompt btw, I just wanted you to know that Ive been thinking about your writing and how much its inspired me. Sorry for how long this is). I keep imagining the man on the bridge being the hot topic on every news station and paper, even more than Batman and Robin. Everyone wants to know who he is. Is he ok? Did he give his life saving his fellow Gotham citizens? There are a lot of questions

(2)and few answers. Those in the loop are more than content to leave it that way,but somehow it gets leaked that Gothams new hero is a young prodigy doctor atGotham General. Tim is not made aware of this until he gets mobbed by reportersas he’s leaving his 36 hour shift and getting asked a lot of innapropriatepersonal questions. And it’s not nearly as funny as you seem to think it is,Jason.

(3)Of course his boyfriends quickly stop finding the situation funny once the joboffers from all over the world start rolling in. Dozens of them, all offeringthings like millions of dollars in salary, positions like chief of surgery, allin state of the art hospitals that are properly funded and don’t reside incities with crazy clown attacks. And it hurts because, how could they ask himto stay? How could they ask their genius sugar to tie himself down to a city

(4)that chews everyone in it up and spits them out, to be a doctor in a hospitalbarely scraping by, how could they ask their genius boy to refuse a once in alifetime opportunity to escape this shithole of a city and make something bigof himself, all to stay with two vigilantes who cant guarantee they’ll make ithome each night. They couldn’t do it, they want whats best for their boy, evenif it means he leaves them. They can’t ask him to stay.

(5)Damian of course has no such qualms about blackmailing, er requesting Drakestay in the city, and subsequently with his older brothers (Because if he hurtsthem, Damian will hurt Tim twice as bad). Which leads to a very awkwardconversation in which Damian threatens Tim not to leave, Tim is confusedbecause “who said anything about leaving?” And then they have a heartto heart about how Tim isn’t stuck at Gotham general, he chose that hospital.And that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

So, hi babe :D Iknow this has been sitting in my inbox for a minute, sorry >.

Brilliant, babe. Justbrilliant.

I also get to play withanother back-and-forth I haven’t really gotten to yet in these little things,so I’m super excited for B and Tony Stark to just have a little snark-fest,yeah?

Tony showed up a fewweeks early for his quarterly “visit” to Gotham.

It’s disconcertingbecause Tony Stark goes between creating new innovations to privatelyconsulting around the US on the most dire of cases in need of a precise handand large enough ego to make miracles happen. He might have to do somebookkeeping even though Pepper is his CEO and runs his company with iron heels. When he’s not working, he has a nice relationship waiting for himat home.

All of it didn’t leaveTony much time to be running to Gotham before schedule to do someridiculous amount of pouting.

And yet?

Here they are.

When Tim actually getsto turn away from the stack of charts he’s updating, he has an oh shitmoment because Tony…isn’t immediately talking. No white coat, just asnazzy three-piece, arms crossed over his chest, and utterly

Silent.

Tim automaticallystands, taking in his old mentor from head to foot, looking for clues toadd to the inevitable diagnosis hovering in his brain pan.

(Because, you know, thattime when he was still a lowly bachelor and could take a month off of Mercy topretty much live in Tony’s facility while things like brain tumors threatenedhis Tony Stark’s life. His hands didn’t shake the whole time he was rootingaround that famous mound of grey matter–that’s when he knew he’d hit the bigleagues.)

“If you even think,”Tony starts, low and angry, “of taking the offer from UCLA over mine, Iwill be an even bigger asshole about your terrible life choices.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Word has apparently gottenaround.

It started out with aquick blurb on the news, blurry camera phone picture of emergency workers andplain clothes civilians jumping to action in the middle of a crisis, a humaninterest story and all that. A glimmer of goodness among the chaos.

More picture with betterquality once the shock and aftermath died down, started to flood Social Media,even various videos of cables snapping and people running, trying not to gettrampled. One the media latched onto just happened to be of him carrying thelittle girl from the car and helping her mother up in the back of a truck tosend them to safety.

The one with himbreaking through the fallen debris made Dick gasp from the table where he waspatching his suit and Jay wrap a big hand around his ankle to squeeze.

The one where he almostlost his grip climbing the wall of broken shit and flaming car remains isprobably where someone saw the connection because the class of kids went on thenews, holding up colorful signs with Thank-You, Dr. Drake!

He was happy they allseemed fine and after an uncomfortable call from Channel 11 Gotham (howthey found out his name is still a mystery even though he suspects B is an evenbigger troll than he’d already surmised), in which he stipulated nocameras this time, went by the elementary school for a visit. They gripped hisnerd shirt with excited hands, and his arms are long enough for a lot ofhugs.

But while Channel 11agreed to his term of no cameras, no interviews, that didn’t really panout when it came to the story later on that night.

His picture flashed allover the damn place, the resident angel on the bridge as one Dr. Drakefrom Mercy General trying to save as many lives as he could. More video clipsand interviews after the fact (he’s so glad to see that Karmen and her mom areokay), and dammit, he’s being literally attacked outside thedouble doors to his ER after a very long shift without Steph. He mighthave been a little mean when he told them in no specific terms that he was onlytrying to make sure people didn’t, you know, die horribly, as is hisnormal, every-day job, and please let him go home where he can pass outfor a day or he’s going to lie down on someone’s shoes and take a nap.

Jay was predictablyentertained at the whole of it. Dick merely told him his kick-ass doctorinstincts deserved appropriate accolades.

Both of them areassholes, but still, they’re his assholes.

But eventually, likeeverything in Gotham, those videos became old news and the next wave ofinevitable oh shit became front and center. Which, should have meant hisfifteen seconds of fame was pretty much over (thankfully)–if he hadn’tstarted getting other interest.

Several offers startedcoming first by mail to the Penthouse, more by phone and email. Unassumingproper stationary with silver and gold lettering, bright voicemails about his“heroism” and obvious skill in emergency situations, emails from high-rankingdoctors or board members extending an invitation to visit their campus and seeif his career might be going in a new direction.

(Gag)

It was pretty easy atfirst, chucking those finely detailed introduction letters in the trashdiscreetly, sending back appreciative declines without Dick or Jason gettingwise as to how many there actually were.

(John Hopkinsthough…that one he had to think about)

A month later and thingsslacked off (or might be routed through Drake Industries so they stop coming tothe Penthouse). Apparently, though, the attention had been somewhat noticeable.

“I don’t know what youmay have heard, Tony, but–” he starts out calmly, putting the penpointedly down.

“Let me start with the shortlist,” it’s the usual sarcasm laying the mood, mimicking an imaginarychecklist, “John Hopkins, Department Head of Emergency Medicine. Mayo, General Surgery Residency Program Director. MassachusettsGeneral, Chief of Surgery. UCSF, Chief of Residents. UCLA, Chief of Staff.Cedars-Sinai, Neuroscience research grants out the ass. Sound morefamiliar?”

Well, there’s only oneway to get this conversation started.

Bonding over coffee.

Gathering up hischarts with a sigh, Tim shakes his head a little and grabs the cane he’s beenusing since his leg is finally starting to get with it (and no Steph,the House MD jokes were funny a week ago, now you need new material). Heshoos Tony out of the room and down the corridor to the chaos that is his ER.

“Notice I didn’tmention the very generous and consistent offer from StarkMedical, Tim,” because Tony really has nothing to be mad about per sayand falls in step beside him anyway, slowing down his unusually fast strides toaccount for the limp. “Because I’m not here to smooze.”

He pauses at the maindesk to arrange the charts in order, gets the approving nod from his favoriteHead Nurse.

“There’s story behindthis,” he fills in casually, “it’s more complicated than just–”

“You almost died,”Tony interrupts smoothly, “on a bridge. You ran around on a crumbling bridgeinstead of getting people the hell off while you got the hell off. Halfthe nation saw that guy with the crazy bat fetish catch someone out in openwater wearing purple scrubs, Tim.”

Well, none of that isa lie really.

Hands free, Tim gripsTony’s elbow and steers them pointedly into the break room, closes the door.With Dr. Stark roaming around Mercy, most everyone would stay clear unless somecatastrophe hits anyway.

He lets Tony stew fora few minutes while he makes a fresh pot of coffee and thinks very, very hardabout how this is going to go.

“You were worriedabout me,” Tim finally gives a half-grin in the face of Tony’s nope, andputs a fresh paper cup in his hand, “you can bluster all you want, but you wereworried, and I appreciate it.”

“That is absolute crapand you know it. I’m here to make sure no other hospitals or researchfacilities snatch you up, Drake. Not after all the effort I put into you overthe last few years.”

Sure, Tony. “The bridge. I survived. A lot of otherpeople survived, so you can ignore whatever crap the news stations aresaying–”

“All of it is true.You stupidly risked your life when the structural integrity was compromised,and since it just happened to involve that wing-nut in the cape, thenation is going to pay the fuck attention.”

Which is probably whyhe’s suddenly Mr. Popular in his field. Well, that does answer some questions.

“You’re taking thisout of proportion,” even if it’s fruitless, he’s still going to try,“there really haven’t been that many–”

“Twenty of the topfacilities in the world have made offers that would put this place to shame.Three of your last publications have shown up in recent journals. The nextsymposium you’re supposed to be at is already sold out.”

And well, shit.He…he didn’t know all of that.

“Besides, if I wasblowing it out of proportion, we wouldn’t be talking about it in thedeserted break room, Drake.”

Tim groans out loud,rubbing a tired hand down his face. How is he going to explain without soundinglike a complete moron?

“Tony, the offersare…nice, okay? I’m not going to say it isn’t cool to be wanted by someof these places. I mean Cedars… they have equipment and research facilitiesmost places couldn’t even dream of. Just the possibilities–”

A very pointedclearing of the throat makes him take a pause to breathe, count to ten becausehe has to get in the mindset to deal with Tony like this again (it’s been aminute) when he’s being incredibly stubborn.

Neither of them noticethe dark blue against black right at the side of the building, but the presenceunder the open window narrows white eyes and stays hidden in the Gotham shadow. Who even knew how long he’d been there.

“Excuse me,Cedars has equipment most facilities–aside from Stark Medical of course–couldn’teven dream of.”

The look he gets backis unimpressed at most, but Tim can see past the usual Tony Stark mask. Theexuding confidence is there like the nice, expensive suits he wears, but underneaththe brilliance and the snark, Tony’s eyes are bloodshot and the dark circlesunderneath look like bruises. He keeps his dominant hand in the pocket of hispants, probably to hide the slight tremble (which is why he isn’t wearing acoat, right? If Tony’s riding the sleep dep train, he won’t operate if hishands are starting to shake).

Tim eases back alittle, sips on his terrible sludge while idly thumbing his phone open.

“I’m very well awareof the opportunities right in front of you, Tim,” Tony starts moving, a shortwhirlwind of movement, activity, and energy. “I’m just saying–”

“What I told you ayear ago is still true,” Tim comes back, finishing up the quick text to one ofTony’s significant others, (just a little knowledge drop on how exhausted hismentor really is). He puts his phone away and crosses his arms over his chestin a firm sign of ‘this is how the discussion is going to go.’

“You can’t be serious.”And yes, that’s Tony Stark without all the touchy-feely, I care if you diekind of thing. “I’m outraged. I’m outraged on your behalf, Tim.”

“You can’t be,” hedeadpans.

“The hell I can’t.You’re going to stay here, in this death trap of a city and practicemedicine in this ill-equipped, dilapidated chop-shop hold-over from the secondWorld War–”

“Tony, c’mon.”

“While half thegoddamned world is out for you?! Do you have any idea what kindof direction your career could go if you accepted even one of thoseoffers?”

“I–”

“Anything else isliterally going to be professional suicide.”

“When you put it like that–”he snarks back, getting a little closer to his patience. It had taken longerthan usual because Tony, like Layla, needed to adults to lay it out for themonce and awhile.

“It’s time to listento reason, Tim. You’ve had plenty of time to try, I don’t know, winningthe Nobel for putting up with terrible conditions and homicidal maniacs withbomb fetishes. Isn’t it time you started challenging yourself again, and notby trying to die in this trash-dump city?”

And the shadowsoundlessly slides away in the night, leaving the conversation to finish up anecessary patrol. The rushing wind doesn’t take away anything he’s alreadylearned.

Dr. Drake, blissfullyunaware of the company, narrows his eyes dangerously, straightens up because dammit,he thought he handled this.

“I. Am. Not.Interested.” He tries, wondering if the emphasis counts. “As appealing as theresearch capabilities are, I’m not taking any of the offers. At all, atall. I’m staying right the fuck here where I choose to be.”

And he sees Tony startto open his mouth to start-up with another fast and furious argument on whyGotham is a cesspool of death and more death, but Tim walks right overanything he might have started in on by just getting right up in Tony’s faceand laying it all out.

“I appreciate the fuckout of the interest, Dr. Stark. Thanks but no thanks.”

“I need someone tocheck you out obviously.”

“I like ithere.”

“Oh? And what’s hername Mister I-Like-It-Here?”

“His name,Tony, and their names for your information.”

That has the intendedeffect and makes his old mentor pretty much pause on the next syllable.

“But just so you know,they aren’t the only reasons why I’m staying in Gotham City. It’s more thanbeing close to my parents’ graves or close to my best friend and my niece. It’smore than just finally coming home, Tony. I belong here. I’m neededhere. It’s dirty and dangerous and so fucking what if there’s a guy in aBat suit running around kicking the shit out of criminals? It’s my city,so no. I’m not going anywhere.”

And Tony just blinksdown at him for long moments, this scene so painfully familiar from their daysof arguing back and forth during his “internship” with Stark Medical. It hadn’ttaken him long to understand what needed to be done to make someone like TonyStark change his mind.

Get all up in his faceand drop some truth bombs.

“I really, really hatethis,” Tony finally replies flatly, but his eyes are scrunched in amusement.

“I know. If I ever dowant to leave it behind, then you know the first place I’m going to go,” Timcomes back more gently, giving Tony a smirk.

Even though he’sobvious not happy about it, some of the pissed off fades out of Tony’sstiff posture. “Promise me, Drake. No one gets to kill you before I pick yourbrain about the neuro-stimulation device we’re working on.”

And with the obviouspun, he leans over laughing until his damn leg starts to ache and Tony has tohold him up by the arm so he doesn’t fall over.

The very impressiveRolls Royce greets Dr. Stark when he finally makes his way out the front doorsto attempt finding some palatable coffee.

The older man waitingby the passenger-side door is familiar enough that a smile cuts across Tony’sface.

“Alfred! Long time, nosee.” He smirks at the irony since his “visits” to Gotham didn’t alwayscoordinate with Pepper’s insistence he at least be in the city for SMbusiness.

“Master Stark, apleasure to see you again, Sir.”

“Always. Let me guess.You have some incredible coffee in there waiting for me?”

“Of course, Sir. Flavoredjust how you prefer.”

“You are a master ofall things, Alfred. Don’t even let Bruce tell you any differently.”

“I shall remind him atevery opportunity. However, you may do me a service and tell him yourself,”Alfred opened the back door with a slight flourish to show the billionairehimself sitting in the back, drinking from a thick, glass tumbler.

“Aw, Bruce, is that autility belt under your shirt or are you just happy to see me?”

The surgeon foldshimself down to get in, eyes sparkling for the slight scowl on his old friend’sface. He pays little attention to Alfred getting back in the driver’s seat andstarting the car. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t trust me inyour city.”

Tony stick up hispointer fingers at the side of his head, wiggling them to mimic the ears on theside of the cowl.

He’s smiling likecrazy when B just rolls his eyes and takes a deep pull from the tumbler.“You’re early, even after you’ve been running the gambit at your facility andStark Industries for the past few weeks. Forgive me for being curious.”

“I had to see anotherdoctor about a job prospect.”

“The doctor we have amutual interest in?”

“That would be theone. Next time he needs to be saved, leave the tights at home. Don’t you have aWE helicopter for a reason?”

“And exactly how wouldI explain that one away?”

“You have PR people,Bruce, let them have a field day with ‘rich socialite accidentally savespeople on a crumbling bridge.’”

“That would make morework for me as Bruce Wayne. Batman is a better figurehead for that kind ofthing.”

“Figurehead? Oh,you mean the persona you’ve gone to great lengths to hide as some kindof myth or urban legend all these years? That guy just suddenly shows up in thedaytime?”

“He’s beenphotographed before, Tony. Sometimes even with other superheroes, likeSuperman and Wonder Woman. All drawback of being on a team.”

“Teams are wonderfulthings, Bruce.

“Says you.”

And from a pocket inthe door, Bruce finally has a little bit of mercy on the overworked genius bypulling out a warm travel mug with the Batman logo on the front.

Tony laughs maniacallyfor long, painful moments, earning another eye-roll. The contents, however, arejust as Alfred promised: full of caffeine and just as tasty.

After a long moment ofsatisfaction, Tony lays his head back on the cushy seat and just sighs.

“You’re pushingyourself too hard,” Bruce admonishes gently. “I’m going to send the WE chopperto pick up Jim and Steve instead.”

That wakes him up.

“Don’t you even dare,B. I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ve made worseenemies.”

Tony doesn’t snortcoffee up his nose, but really, it’s a close thing.

“You obviously can’ttake care of yourself,” Bruce is his usual brusk, no-nonsense about it, butTony can see there’s already some kind of plan in the making. “I can seewhy the two of them have such a hard time with you.”

“Says the guy thatneeded an emergency arthroscopy for meniscus tears.”

“Then I guess I’m verylucky you were in town.”

Tony hums, but hiseyes are sparkling. “How is the knee doing by the way?”

“It hurts when I breaksomeone’s jaw. Other than that, it’s fine.” And because it’s Bruce, he wavesit away without a second thought.

Tony hums again, buthis eyes go down to the knee in question.

Bruce sips his drinkagain while Alfred continues driving and Tony makes him wait for it.

Finally, once they’repassing the old Mylar building, B looks at him head-on, “all right. What did hehave to say?”

Trying not to grin,Tony shrugs a shoulder, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. Drake is staying inGotham, even with the more-than-generous offer I’ve made him. Believe me, B,I’m not happy about it, but he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving Mercy General.”

And as Tony is well-awarein their long and industrious friendship, the real Bruce Wayne is like a closedbook, doesn’t let even the smallest twitch break his facade (well, except infront of his boys, which is when BatDad makes an appearance), but thesigns of relief are really hard to miss for someone that literally kept B’sright arm moving after that rotator cuff injury.

“Dick and Jay will behappy to hear that, I suppose.” Tony observes with false cheer becausehonestly, who wouldn’t put two and two together at this juncture.

(Bruce isn’t the onlydetective. As a surgeon, Tony has to deduce with little evidence, so it’s notreally a shocker to find out the vigilantes have a doctor for a sweetie. Smartmove all around.)

“…yes, they will.Tim…?”

“He didn’t have to.You just told me yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

At the frown, Tonygives himself a mental point. The day he can get one up on the Batman is reallya day he needs to remember.

“All right, fine. Jayand Dick might have mentioned he’s been getting attention outside Gotham. I’vealready taken some steps to try making it seem like staying in the city mightbe a better deal.”

And Tony’s jaw drops,“you’ve been trying to get Mercy to partner with WE! That’s why they aren’tplaying nice with Pepper! Bruce, you devil.”

“Demon, actually, ifyou believe the stories,” and now it’s Bruce smirking into his tumbler. “We’lltalk more about it over dinner. Besides, the Batcomputer is on the fritz again.You can dazzle me over filet mignon.”

“Flatterer. How can Ipossibly say no?”

Bruce taps theintercom to tell Alfred they’re ready to go back to the Manor and Dr. Starkwill be joining them for the evening. Alfred gives him an affirmative and the planis set into motion. If there just happens to be a comfortable surfacefor Tony to pass out on during the visit, well, the pictures for Jim and Stevewould be well-worth the effort.

The conversation withTony didn’t end well, leaving him with a mental hangover by the time his shiftis finally over.

Night hadn’t startedbreaking away into dawn yet, so he’s still walking by dark alleys where thestreet lights are flickering.

He gets out a, “whatthe fuck–!?” before he’s just suddenly swept up off his feet by a strongarm holding him up hundreds of feet in the air.

Really, he should beused to things like this by now.

Robin undoubtedly givesno shits about how tight he’s holding onto the doctor or, the obviousdifferences in their height as punctuated by the botched landing, putting himliterally on his ass.

��Wow, thanks for the warning,Rob. I really didn’t need legs anyway.”

In some way that mightactually show he’s sorry, Robin bends down to pick up the cane and handsit over so Tim can get back on his feet.

“Alright, what’s goingon? Where are you hurt?” He doesn’t bother with niceties, just grips Robin bythe bicep and turns him, uses the cane to hold the cape out of the way. “Pleasetell me no one stabbed you because wouldn’t that just be ironic?”

He sees no blood ortorn suit. Takes a second look just to make sure.

Robin, in a creepyparody of his conversation with Tony earlier in the evening, is silent.

“Rob? Robin, what isit?”

A litany of oh shitruns through his brain pain in the form of toxins, mind control, and bloodborne pathogens (oh my).

“I have beeninformed,” the youngest vigilante starts slowly, “you are considering other opportunitiesoutside of Gotham, Drake.”

He blinks once. Doesit again while staring down at the whiteouts.

“Opportunities? Rob–Dami,what are you talking about?”

“Facilities are vyingfor you, offering you more advantages than any in Gotham possibly could.I understand the temptation of such offers–”

“Whoa, what? Wait aminute. Just. Wait.”

“However,” Robin goeson, his tone low in the night, “I am here to offer you a bargain.”

And that in no waywhatsoever sound anything less than ominous. Like, ‘I’ll promise not to takeout your spleen’ kind ominous.

He leans down a littleso the crime fighter doesn’t have to look up at him, “First: yes, I’ve gottensome job offers. It’s nice they’re thinking of me, really, but those offers arebased off a one-time emergency incident, not because they’ve seen me inaction or know anything about my…hobbies. They’re not offering a jobto me, Dami. Do you get that?”

The ensuing silenceand Bat-stillness are signs of the younger processing.

“Besides, I choseto come back to Gotham when I could have gone pretty much anywhere after myinternship with Stark Medical. You have no idea how many places wantedme on staff after I survived Tony Stark. If I wanted a job outside of the city,I could have had it in spades. The point is I chose to be here. I wantedto stay, and that? Isn’t going to change, okay? No bargains, no threats,nothing. I’m not leaving–”

He stops himselfbefore saying I’m not leaving Dick and Jay because really, he isnot, repeat Not talking to Dami about his relationship. Poor kid mightbe traumatized for life, so nope, not happening.

(Their last littleconvo to the vibe of ‘harm my brother and I shall eviscerate you per one ofyour textbooks. I shall do it slowly and methodically. Your screams would nottrouble me’ turned into a pretty good discussion on the best possiblescenario in effectively ripping someone’s spine out. His argument against thelogistics of it had spurned Robin out of the killing mood).

The obvious relief inthe small crime fighter is right there in how his shoulders sag just slightly.

“So, you’re going tohave to put up with me saving your ass when you do stupid shit like take on anarmy of zombified Jokers without backup.”

“Then…I shall haveno other option but to deal with your meddling when necessary,” the youngerwaves off his concern, but a corner of his mouth is tilted up just enough tonotice.

It’s really nice ofDami to drop him off on his fire escape. Walking would have been fine, but whenyou can travel Air-Robin, well, why not?

He pushes his windowup and gingerly eases in, maneuvering the cane to steady his leg. Hands are onhim before his head is inside and he wacks himself a good one in surprise.

Dick is smiling gentlydown at him, still gripping his elbow to steady him.

“That sounded like ithurt,” is a failed attempt at a joke because the mirth doesn’t reach the darkblue of Dick’s eyes.

Oh. OH. Welp, that’swhere Dami got this nonsense from, is it?

His stern lecture isgoing to have to wait for at least one cup of half-way decent coffee because hereally need to wind it up so the message hits home.

Jay is already there,his chair pulled out from the kitchen table and the pot filled with somethingdarker than the night.

“Hi honey,” he tiredlycalls, “did my boys have a good time kicking the shit out of bad guys tonight?”

Making grabby hand athim, Dick is one of his hugging moods, and pretty much lifts him off hisfeet to nuzzle/carry him to the table where blessed coffee awaited. Fine.Lecture pending.

He gets a last goodnuzzle to the face before the smell of pizza hits and a plate appears in frontof him. Jason leans down to blow a breath across his jugular before his mouthpresses just enough to be a kiss, the usual effect takes his nerve endings up anotch or two before the tease pulls away.

The three of them eatin sluggish silence, the strain of their night jobs hitting a little close tohome. The call of a communal shower and their large, comfortable bed a siren’ssong to the over-worked, sleep-deprived do-gooders.

But Tim knows them bynow, knows what’s already running them further down.

Through the last yearof their relationship, they’d already been through the whole we’re puttingyou in danger just by being with you argument.

Yes, yes it possiblywas.

Yes, he is fullyaware.

Yes, he can make hisown choices fuck you very much. Apparently, his no, not changing mymind is going to come out for a second time tonight.

“Robin picked me up onthe way home,” he starts out while the two of them are finishing up and lookingless likely to start up arguing before he’s made his point.

“Dami was still out?”

“What? Baby Bat ain’tget enough in that warehouse down on 23rd?”

Tim finishes off hiscoffee and finally sets his eyes on first Jason and then Dick. “Going to ask mewhat he wanted?”

Both crime fighters gostill, doing that eye slide thing they can still pull off with a domino andhelmet.

“Lay it on us,Timmers.”

“He pretty much askedwhat offer I was accepting for some mystery job half a continent away,”and now he’s glaring, eyes narrowing when Dick looks quickly away and Jasonsits back with a tense jaw jutting out.

“Which is absolutelyfucking ridiculous considering I like right where the hell I am.Where could he have heard such a thing, I wonder?”

Oh yeah, that’s Dick’sguilty expression.

“It’s fine if theywant to offer me a position, but the nice thing about it is that I can politelydecline, you know.”

“Top twenty facilitiesin the world, Timmy?” Dick’s voice is softer than he’d like, shakingly unsurefor a vigilante that literally risks his life every night to keep peoplehe doesn’t even know safe. “That’s not something to take…lightly.”

His mouth drops openwith an are you even kidding me?

“‘Sides,” Jayintejects without really looking at him, “ain’t like this is the fucking centero’ the world fer a fella like you, Sweets. Smart, sassy, moves like yerass is on fucking fire when someone’s on the line. Ya got moreguts than anyone outta the cape I ever met.”

“Gotham doesn’t haveto be the hill you die on,” Dick picks up, looking down into the sludge left atthe bottom of his coffee mug, “we would absolutely understand andsupport you if you even wanted to look into any of these places–”

“Even go ta seewhatcha might be lookin’ at,” Jay shrugs indifferently, “make sure ya’d findsomewhere safe ta build a nest.”

“The kind oftechnology they could offer you would be, like, ground-breaking stuff and…andGotham just can’t give you that, Tim.”

“No motherfuckersgonna break inta yer shit, I guaran-fucking-tee ya on that.”

“It’s not just beingin the ER or in surgery, it’s moving up to management or teaching or being afull-time researcher with grants and–and everything.”

“Make a safe routethere n’ back, you feel me? Me n’ Dickie’ll scope it out a few days, check the scene.”

“We would never wantto hold you back, baby. Not when the only thing Gotham has to offer you isexploding bridges and insane mad men that kidnap you and ninjas that are readyto attack at any second, and…and Timmy, you could never be safe, notreally, not here. Not even with us and B and Dami and everyone else,it’ll never be completely safe for you.”

“But fucking believeit, Timmers, we’ll make any place ya wanna lay yer head down as safe as wecan, yeah?”

“We…we love you, andwe want the best for you.”

“If leavin’ is what’sbest, Sweets, then we’ll make it fucking happen.”

It’s DIck’s voicecracking and Jay’s shiny, averted eyes that end it for him right then andthere.

He shoves himself upfrom the table abruptly, a jarring motion. The sound of the chair fallingbackwards a loud clatter against the softness of their voices. He keeps a handon the table top to walk around the damn thing and almost strangle Jason bylooping an arm around the base of his throat and pull the Red Hood into hischest. He holds out his other hand to Dick, glaring with the best of hisabilities.

It’s a tremulous thingwhen Dick rises tiredly out of his seat and takes that hand, lets Tim pull himover and secure the both of them to him.

“I’m going to say thisbecause it’s obvious the two of you are too tired to use your detective skillsfor anything more than superficial clues.”

Slowly, Jay’s face isin his stomach, arms wrapping around his waist while Dick secures his chest,the two of them almost holding him up.

“After all thefighting I’ve had to do to get here, to get this far, I’m not giving up jackshit. I run the gauntlet because that exactly where I want to be. I staywith my people because that’s my fucking team and no, I don’t wantor need another. I can watch Layla grow up into this kick ass little person andmake sure Steph has someone to Netflix and chill with while we kill a pint ofBen & Jerry’s. But what matters the most, what I can’t fucking give upis being here with the two of you in whatever capacity I can. Asyour boyfriend, as your surgeon, as the guy that is totally, you know, inlove with you. As someone that can share your lives like this. All of it isexactly what I want and what I get to choose. You two? Don’t get to tellme what’s best for me. I decide that. Got it?”

The quiet, still menattached to him give half-shuffling nods where they’re buried in him.

“I don’t want to hearanything else about leaving Gotham, like at all, okay? The answer is no.I’m not going anywhere to tour the facilities or listen to stupid speechesabout what they have to offer or how good the benefits package is. None of thatshit. They can’t offer me my ER, they can’t offer me time doing research in theBatCave, they can’t let me play around with alien DNA for a minute, and theycan’t give me you two. So? No. Case closed.”

Dick lets up justenough for him to tilt Jay’s head back and lean down to slide their lipstogether, giving the Red Hood a little something to seal the deal. Those eyesare bluer when he pulls back, making him smirk before he straightens up to giveDick the same treatment.

(Because they’re bothtall, he has to pull them down to effectively fuck his tongue in their mouths.Such a pain in the ass.)

When he pulls back,Dick gasps in a little, tightens his hold around Tim’s chest.

But the reliefpervades the air between them, giving him a reason to go a little more lax,just to feel them pretty much ready to hold him up completely.

“So the plan is,”he continues easily, one hand on the back of Jay’s neck to rub the tensionaway, and the other gripping Dick’s wrist tight enough to bruise tomorrow, “weget a nice, hot shower with plenty of scrubbing and maybe a little play time.Then, we climb in bed and pass the fuck out. You can fix your suits tomorrow,and we’ll all feel up to having dangerous acrobatic vigilante sex after about eight hours. If you’re both good,I’ll…I’ll wear that thing you got me for my birthday. Deal?”

He knows he’s alreadygot their acquiescence when both his boyfriends noticeably perk.

“That sounds like adeal to me,” Dick tries to be mock-grave, but he’s laughing in the back ofTim’s neck, running his nose over the knob of bone.

“Fucking righteous,Sweetheart. I been waiting ta see that.” Jay is grinning up at him with thatlook– all kinds of anticipation without any of the previous hesitation.

“Good. Peel yourselvesoff of me and lets get naked. For mostly clean purposes. Or not. Really, I’mpretty beyond compromised, so I’d probably like to make you both come at leastonce before I’m unconscious.”

“Sweet-talker,” Dickteases and steps to the side so he can be the first to lift their civilianboyfriend up in a princess hold that has become way too reminiscent in the pasttwo months.

“He’s just talkin’ my language, ‘at’s all, Baby Boy,” Jaystands to give him a fast n’ dirty before he gets their mugs to the sink andfills them with water to wash tomorrow. He hits the lights and follows his boysdown the hallway where slippery skin and things like I’m not giving upare waiting.

#doctor!tim #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #winter answers #my fic #my writing #this really was fun babe #bruce wayne #with guest star #tony stark #dr!tim

98 notes · View notes