Creative Repository

Pre-relationship // 1K // Ao3

“No…Jason, no…you didn't…”

Jason barked a laugh at the look of abject horror on Tim’s face as he caught sight of the new tattoo proudly emblazoned across Jason’s chest.

“‘Batman Sucks’? Jason…Jason…” Tim moaned, Jason’s name coming out more and more desperately with each iteration, as if begging could make the dark inked bat on Jason’s chest disappear. Jason found himself wishing he could elicit half as much need from Timmy’s moans while they were in bed together as he could with a little ink and rebellion.

Jason laughed out loud as he walked off the practice mats and made his way over to where Tim was slumped against the Cave computer banks in disbelief. “You like? I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get it bigger, you know? I shoulda had the wings stretch a little further, then made the whole bat a little taller, that way I could really get those words nice and big,” Jason teased in a total deadpan, gesturing to the lettering left un-inked in sharp contrast to the black bat shape around them. “And I’m not so sure about the color,” Jason mused, rubbing a hand over the day-old stubble on his chin and staring off into space consideringly, “Red would have been more dramatic don’t you think?”

“Jason…Ok, no, you can't…you can't…”

Jason dropped his gaze back to Tim just in time to see Tim drop his face into his hands and scrub at his eyes. Jason’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. He struggled to put on a straight face a moment later when Tim jerked his head up, snapping himself out of his shock and jumping straight into business mode.

“No,” Tim shook his head. “Jason, you have to go,” he ordered, striding forward with a grim expression. Jason opened his mouth to protest, but Tim ran right over him. “You can’t be here when Bruce gets back; he was right behind me and if he sees that there will be no end to the shitstorm that follows.” Tim caught Jason’s shoulder in a firm grip and steered him towards the back exit to the Cave, startling Jason with how forceful the smaller man could be with just a single hand. “I get that you have issues with how Batman operates and I don’t completely disagree with you on some of it, but this is an in-fight we don’t need right now.”

“Tim.”

“And then there is Dick to contend with,” Tim continued unheeding and implacable as he snatched Jason’s discarded armor, jacket and helmet and shoved them into his arms. Jason caught a mumbled “he’d be just as likely to burst out crying as to punch you in the face” as Tim shoved him roughly towards his bike.

“Tim.”

“And I don’t even want to think about how Damian would react to this.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, already shaking his head in chagrin at the thought. “Alfred cleans up enough blood as it is without having to clean yours off you, the floor and any of the various weaponry Damian might choose to hurl at you.”

“Tim!”

Tim’s eyes snapped up to meet Jason’s stare, shock at the interruption quickly turning to anger as he opened his mouth, probably to continue berating, but Jason cut right across him in a quiet voice.

“Tim, it’s not a real tattoo. It’s not real ink. It’s an airbrush; temporary.”

The silence that fell over the entire cave could have suffocated an entire monastery of silent monks, but Jason let the words hang until the worried frustration melted off of Tim’s face and blank confusion took it’s place. When no response was forthcoming, Jason stepped in close and brought one of Tim’s hands up to his chest.

“See, you can feel the texture of the airbrush paint,” he explained as he guided Tim’s hand against his skin, smudging the edges of the letters. “The bottle said it’d last five to ten days but reviews said alcohol or baby oil might take it off right away. I didn’t plan to keep it on for long, probably only tonight.”

Jason noticed a dusting of pink settle across Tim’s cheekbones; whether it was for Jason’s hand pulling Tim’s across his bare chest or in embarrassment for Tim’s oversight–or both–Jason couldn’t say, but he let Tim pull his hand back in any case as Jason concluded with a lame, “Uhhh…April Fool’s?”

“Jason…” Tim scrubbed both hands over his face once again. “Oh my god…”

Jason grinned apologetically. When Tim finally let his hands drop, his face was even redder with embarrassment, but his expression was long-suffering. “You still need to get out of here or wash that off before anyone else comes back. You got your laugh from me; I can guarantee no one is going to be laughing if Damian sees that and tries to run you through with a sword.”

“Or if it makes Dick cry?”

Tim huffed out a laugh at that, but leveled Jason with a wry glare all the same. “Especially if you make Dick cry.”

“So…I guess I should go take this off right now then?” Jason smiled at the patronizing nod and raised eyebrows Tim gave him at the statement, then added, “Well, if that’s the case do you mind lending me some of that baby oil you keep hidden away just for peeling off bandage tape, shining birdarangs, and softening the skin of that tidy ass of yours?”

Jason threw back his head and laughed as Tim opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. Jason started back towards the stairs up to the manor and Tim fell in behind him after a long pause, but just before they mounted the stairs Jason turned and shot over his shoulder, “It would probably go faster if I had some help, too, you know? Would you mind lending me that hand again?”

“Tim, I need to speak with you.”

Tim raised his eyebrows in question to the stony expression on Bruce’s face.

“What is this?”

“It would appear to be a photograph,” Tim responded, steadily meeting Bruce’s glare from over the newspaper clipping he thrust into Tim’s face.

“A photograph of you holding hands with Jason Todd.”

“Yes.”

Bruce’s face darkened further. “A picture of you holding hands with him in broad daylight surrounded by numerous people.”

“Yes, what about it?” Tim continued casually, moving towards the stairs up to the Manor. Bruce had intercepted him just as he was about to leave the Cave for breakfast, but now it looked like getting his coffee fix before heading off to school would have to wait. It had been a long night on patrol and he hadn’t had a chance to sleep so he hoped they settled this quickly.

Bruce drew himself up to his full height, pulling out his most imposing glare, the kind that would have had common criminals scurrying if matched with his cape and cowl. “A picture of you holding hands with Jason Todd, in full view of anyone, as Timothy Drake-Wayne, having just left a Wayne Enterprises fundraising event and knowing full well the media would be watching? Are you going to try to tell me next that you didn’t think there would be media hanging around as we left that event?”

“No, I just didn’t care,” Tim responded, turning his back to Bruce as he mounted the stairs.

“Tim…” Bruce began warningly.

“No, Bruce. It’s not like Tim Wayne was seen holding hands with the Red Hood or something. And it’s not like the media has matched his face with that of Bruce Wayne’s onetime foster son, either; he’s just some random guy to them.”

“That’s not the point.”

Tim froze on second step, foot poised on the third. “Then what is?” he challenged, dropping the put-upon nonchalance and turning to glare down the older man.

“It’s that Bruce Wayne’s son suddenly shows up holding hands and standing close to another man without any prior warning,” Bruce explained. He paused. “And that Batman’s Robin is getting close to a dangerous aggressor.”

“So is the problem that Jason is a man or that he’s the Red Hood?” Tim asked drily. “Because as far as I was aware I had already made it perfectly clear to you that, first, I go both ways on that and, second, Jason has agreed to put his more violent means on hold to try to work with us on mutual terms.”

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before responding to Tim’s challenge, and when he did his words bore the weariness of a person making an argument they wished they’d never needed to make in the first place.

“Tim, I don’t care…or rather, I don’t mind that your preferences go either way, you know that. It’s that you made it public knowledge in that way, like you were trying to draw attention to yourself.”

“And what if I was?” Tim countered evenly. Bruce blinked, uncertain at that response.

“Why…? What were you hoping to accomplish?”

Eren Jaeger // Ch. 72 Edit: ChristmasRivers // Original: H. Isayama / image © Kodansha Ltd.

Eren Jaeger // Ch. 73 Edit: ChristmasRivers // Original: H. Isayama / image © Kodansha Ltd. (bonus)

JayTim - Freeform // Pre-relationship; enemies to friends to lovers; jumping straight into the “we’re not really friends but we kind of are?” stage; Tim’s obsession with marshmallows (thank Marcus To for that one) // 1.44K // Read on Ao3

“I’d never realized you prefer stick.”

Tim raised his eyebrows at the observation, but didn’t spare a glance toward his passenger, opting instead to keep his eyes on the messy Gotham traffic ahead of him.

“I mean, I know for a fact Dick secretly prefers automatics,” Jason continued with a smirk, leaning forward to peer into Tim’s face hoping to catch a reaction. “I’d always imagined you guys shared that in common.”

Tim continued weaving through traffic without comment. They were all capable of driving manual transmission - Bruce had made sure of that for Robin purposes, whether they had been of proper age to learn or not - and whenever Bruce or Dick or Tim drove any of Bruce’s fancier “playboy Wayne” vehicles, they tended to be manuals or fancy semi-automatics.

But this wasn’t patrol and they weren’t in one of Bruce’s flashy sports cars; Tim and Jason were in civilian clothes, Tim was giving Jason a lift to meet Barbara for dinner on his way to a late evening business meeting at Wayne Enterprises, and they were riding in Tim’s daily driver. It was a nice car, but not expensive or showy; not meant for making a statement.

Except that it did make a statement to Jason. Tim could have picked any car he wanted and had any kind of setup for it - and he had picked a pretty basic manual transmission. Actually, Jason wasn’t even sure this model of mid-grade luxury car even came with the option for manual transmission, so Tim might have even had to order the car with this transmission package especially, for all Jason knew.

Jason supposed he’d never really had a reason to suspect Tim to prefer one kind of transmission over the other. Dick preferred automatics because he said it gave him a break from needing to constantly move and think to clutch and shift and downshift and upshift and so on, but Jason also knew that Dick had never really enjoyed driving. For Dick it was a way to get between point A and point B, and if he did that in comfort and/or style then that was enough for him. That had never been enough for Jason, or for Bruce, but until now Jason had never wondered how Tim felt about it.

Then a thought occurred to Jason.

“Well, I guess it would make sense for you to prefer manuals. After all, you always hate to lose control; what’s worse than having to cede control of which gear you’re in and how many RPMs you engine turns, huh?”

Tim shook his head at Jason’s teasing tone, but to Jason’s surprise he responded with words for the first time since Jason had stepped into the car.

“You’re not too far off; I like driving manuals because it gives me a greater degree of control over the machine.” Tim frowned. “But I wouldn’t say I prefer manuals because I dislike the loss of control while driving an automatic.” The frown faded and a more thoughtful expression took its place.

“It’s more that I enjoy being able to push a car to its limits and then choose to drive it as conservatively as I’d like, all in the span of a second, without having to punch a button or flip a switch to change a computer setting from ‘Economy Shift’ to ‘Performance Shift’.” The timing of that statement was eerily perfect, because, at that moment, a gap opened in another lane and Tim rapidly downshifted and floored the vehicle to accelerate into the rapidly shrinking opening.

“I like how it feels,” Tim went on after a moment, “to have a more direct mechanical connection to the engine - from clutch to gears to drive shaft. I just feel more… alive when I have the choice of how to drive the car at my fingertips.” He paused again to focus on the cars around them, but Jason kept silent, anticipating more.

“It feels like driving the car, not just using it to go from one place to another,” Tim finished. He huffed a tired laugh and shot the ghost of a grin at Jason. “To be honest, driving an automatic is just plain boring to me.”

There was a long beat of silence as Jason stared unseeingly at the stopped traffic in front of them and let the words sink in. Tim cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on the wheel, and when Jason glanced over, there was a faint dusting of pink across Tim’s cheekbones. Tim clearly hadn’t intended to say so much and probably felt Jason thought he was ridiculous for it.

But the thing was… Jason felt the same way. Listening to Tim talk about driving was like having his own thoughts taken, put into different words, and thrown back at him. Actually, Tim might have put to words things Jason hadn’t even realized he’d felt about driving until he heard it from somebody else.

Jason had never suspected he would ever have this in common with his replacement. He had never expected to have much of anything in common with the younger boy. It was a strange feeling, warm and unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. These days Jason wondered more and more at moments similar to this one that he had shared with Tim. They weren’t really friends but then at the same time they kind of were? Or maybe they were something else entirely? Jason shook his head at the thoughts, but Tim winced, taking the motion as a reaction to what he’d said.

“I know that probably sounds stupid but -”

“It really doesn’t,” Jason answered seriously. Tim’s head whipped around at the sudden change of tone in Jason’s voice before whipping back to dodge a stopped taxi at the last possible second. “It’s just so easy to zone out when you drive an automatic. And there’s no challenge.”

Tim seemed surprised but nodded along emphatically with what Jason had to say. “Yeah, exactly.”

They lapsed in a semi-comfortable silence after that, the remainder of the drive passing quickly as Jason watched Tim weave and zoom through the insane traffic with new perspective on the younger man. Before they knew it, Tim was pulling into the traffic circle - roundabout, whatever - outside the hotel in which Jason and Barbara were meeting. Pulling out his phone to check to see if she had already arrived, Jason’s eyes drifted over the date and he nearly jumped in his seat.

July 19th. Today was…

“Holy crap, today’s your birthday isn’t it? Happy birthday, man!”

“Thanks,” Tim answered drily, once again shaking his head at the older boy. “You’d better get going or we’ll both be late.”

Jason nodded mutely and vaulted out of the car, slamming the door with one last apologetic “happy birthday” before Tim took off without a second glance. Jason stared after the car as it wove back into traffic, shaking his own head in chagrin.

A late evening business meeting, then a rushed dinner and then a long night of patrolling were probably all Tim had to look forward to in order to celebrate his birthday tonight. And how many other people had forgotten the day until the very last second? He’d be damned if Bruce wasn’t lead among that group, Jason growled to himself as he turned back towards the hotel. Jason’s last thought as he stepped through the fancy front door was of something he had seen once that he had meant to track down…

—

Two mornings later Tim looked out the window of his apartment  to find three of strangest things taped to the outside of the glass. The first was an enormous bag of jumbo jet-puffed marshmallows - seems someone had found out about his not-so-secret obsession with those useless sugary puffs - the second was an envelope, and the third was a note addressed to “Timmy” in what Tim recognized as Jason’s fifth-grader scrawl. Tim read the note as he popped the first of many marshmallows into his mouth.

Timmy. The talk we had the other day reminded me of something I saw a while back; finally tracked one down the other day and thought it might give you a good laugh. P.S. Happy Birthday and don’t get diabetes in a single morning, ok?

Tim snorted at the post script and pointedly shoved the next marshmallow into his mouth in defiance, then turned his attention to the envelope. Something Jason had seen that would make him laugh? He opened the flap and out fluttered a small rectangle which, on closer inspection, turned out to be a sticker.

Tim blinked then snorted, a real smile warming up his expression for what felt like the first time in days. A bumper sticker. Well, he wouldn’t be putting it on his car any time soon, but it was the thought, the reminder of what they shared together now, that counted.

A bumper sticker and a bag of marshmallows. Not the most extravagant or most expensive gifts Tim had ever received, he would readily admit, but as a gesture that let Tim know that Jason kind of gave a fuck about him, Tim had to admit those were some of the most thoughtful gifts anyone had given him in a long time. He smiled and popped another marshmallow in his mouth. I was going to take my bike over to the office today, but maybe I’ll take the manual again. Just for fun.

He did. And he thought of Jason the entire time.

—

<<Part 1 (Tim’s Birthday)

JayTim - Freeform // Pre-relationship; enemies to friends to lovers; jumping straight into the “we’re not really friends but we kind of are?” stage // 2.9 K // Read on Ao3

Happy Birthday, Jason!! ❤

“Shit.”

“Hmm?”

“Dammit!”

“Uhhh, what’s up, Red?” Jason asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow at the red and black-clad vigilante sitting beside him on the edge of the roof.

“I just realized that today is September sixteenth,” Red Robin replied as he scrubbed a gauntleted hand over his masked eyes.

“Umm, and this is a problem because…”

“Because it’s been an entire month since August sixteenth.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “And that date is relevant because…”

Red Robin stared at him. “Hood. That’s your birthday. Remember?”

Jason snorted. “Oh, that?” He reached around the rim of his helmet, deftly unlatched the complicated clasp, and pulled the ‘hood’ off. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and cocked an eyebrow from behind his domino as he turned and asked, “But why’s that a big deal? My birthday was a month ago; why’s that important now?”

Red Robin groaned, leaning back on his hands, surveillance of the precious metals depository in front of them long forgotten - that was okay; based on the intel they’d gotten, nothing was likely to happen that night anyway, Jason figured.

“I completely forgot about it, that’s why,” Red replied quietly, looking pained. Jason opened his mouth to put Red’s concerns to rest - who cared about his birthday, he certainly didn’t - but Red didn’t notice as he stared off at the twinkling skyline. “You remembered mine at the last moment and then were thoughtful enough to do something after the fact.”

“Tim,” Jason sighed, “look, I appreciate the thought, but we were kind of in the middle of dealing with, what, two alien invasions, and then chasing down, like, what, four different supervillians a month ago? Let’s be real, I didn’t even get a chance to think about my own birthday.”

Tim was so upset about the whole thing he didn’t even comment on Jason breaking the no names in the field rule. “Yeah, but I remember remembering it a week after the fact, and I meant to do something, but now it’s been three more weeks and I completely forgot.”

Jason grimaced. If he’d known back when he first came back how much thought his replacement put into beating himself up over every little thing he probably would have gone easier on the kid that first time they’d met. Maybe. He certainly would have aimed to plant more ideas to psychologically traumatize the newest Robin rather than spend so much energy beating on him physically; there was no one better at beating Tim up than Tim himself, he’d come to find out.

As it was now, Jason kind of wished a good pummeling could knock all the self-deprecating thoughts out of the younger man. It would certainly be easier than trying to convince Red Robin to go easier on himself.

“Little Red, you’re making too big a deal out of this.” Jason shook his head. “It was just a birthday. It would have been nice if you had said something, but I’m not upset that you didn’t; not given how overwhelmed we were these past couple of weeks.”

Tim frowned, looking uncertain. Jason leaned forward into Red’s space, huffing a laugh as he added, “I mean it’s just something we humans have made into bigger deal than is really necessary, right? What’s the big deal about a birthday, anyway?”

Red Robin backed away from the ledge and threw down his cowl. Tim’s eyebrows rose as he turned to face Jason, exhaustion melting away to incredulity. “Um. Only that it celebrates the fact that you exist and that you’re alive and that you’ve managed to stay alive for so many years! And, we of all people - you of all people - have the most to celebrate for the feat of staying alive in spite of everything!”

Jason ignored the backhanded reference to his death and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You certainly didn’t seem to care all that much about your own birthday. You didn’t remind anyone; didn’t ask for a dinner or a party or anything; didn’t even cancel your work meetings or your patrol that night. So what? It’s only important if it’s not your birthday, if it’s not your life?”

Tim blinked then looked away, abashed. The silence stretched but Jason waited, determined to crack through Tim’s self-deprecation on this one. It was one thing that he’d thrown Tim around and talked like he was trash for trying to take his place, back when Jason was in that bad, bad place; and it was one thing that the demon brat had channeled his uncertainty and anxiety over his place in the family into misplaced aggression towards his older brother and predecessor, and repeated attacked him for it, back in the day; but it was another thing entirely that Tim insisted on throwing himself away even after Jason and Damian had both come to appreciate Tim for who he was and what he had to offer as a brother and peer.

He and Damian still had trouble admitting to themselves sometimes how much they admired and respected Tim, and they still gave him shit on a semi-regular basis, if only to hide their shame for how they’d treated him without thinking their actions through, but they appreciated the hell outta him now, so Jason would be damned if he let Tim appreciate himself any less than they did.

Tim fiddled with his gauntlets and shifted his legs restlessly, making Jason think he might try to jump up and run away from the questions - Jason would chase him down if he had to, so help him - but eventually Tim found the words to respond.

“No, it’s not… I don't… Everyone’s life is important, even mine, it’s just not something you’re supposed to make a big deal out of yourself, I think,” Tim explained, looking thoughtful. “I make a big deal out of everyone else’s birthdays, but I don’t make a big deal out of my own because that… it doesn't… I don’t feel like…”

Tim paused to swallow and Jason waited, knowing deep down what Tim was going to say next. “I just feel like it would be really self-centered to call attention to myself instead of letting other people decide if they wanted to remember and celebrate on their own.”

“So, by that logic, how can you really blame me for not making a fuss over my own birthday?” Jason asked, tilting his head towards Tim with a savage grin.

Tim gaped. Jason didn’t often pull out his quiet, rational side, so often it surprised people that he still had one, but he could still keep up with the best of them when he had to - Tim included. After a moment, Tim huffed a laugh and settled back onto the roof.

“Okay, point taken,” Tim conceded with a grin. “However, in that case we should both make a bigger deal out of our birthdays,” he added, surprising Jason. “They’re important. Yeah, other cultures will celebrate different days or celebrate in different ways, but the meaning is the same: we’re alive and we’re stayin’ alive and that means something. That means a lot to people like us.” Tim paused and looked Jason straight in the eye. “It means a lot to me.”

You mean a lot to me was the unspoken takeaway from that and Jason wasn’t sure what to make out of that sentiment. He had beaten this kid bloody, treated him like crap at one time. Things were better now, but he still really couldn’t understand why Tim cared as much as he did.

To be fair, he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that Tim beat himself up or didn’t give himself the credit he was due, so maybe there was something worthwhile between them after all.

Sometimes he felt like they both saw something in each other that reminded them of themselves, something that reminded them of who and what they’d always wanted to be. Something that reminded them that for as far as they fell, there were always ways to pick themselves back up again.

So, yeah, maybe there was something small, but meaningful between them, and maybe - just maybe - Tim meant a lot to him, now, too.

—

A week passed after that night and he and Tim ran into each other a few times, but the younger man didn’t bring up Jason’s birthday again.

Not until one quiet night when he showed up on the roof where Jason was taking a break, carrying what looked like a black and red box wrapped clothes box.

“Uhhhh, hey there, babybird. To what do I owe the honor?”

Red Robin approached, pressing the package against his chest with one arm so he could yank down his cowl with the other. He stopped in front of Jason and offered the package to him.

“Happy Birthday, Jay.”

Jason shifted and studied the package. It was roughly twelve by nine inches in size and an impressive three inches deep, and it was covered in black matte paper with shiny red foil bats all over it.

“Where did you get that paper?”

“I made it.”

“What, really?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yes. It’s not that amazing. Just take the gift already; I swear it’s not a bomb or a trap.”

Jason squinted at Tim appraisingly - teasingly - but reached for the package. The sides of it were firm under his fingers, so he grasped it tightly, but when Tim released his grip, Jason wasn’t prepared for how heavy it would be and he almost dropped the thing.

“Holy fuck, man, what is in this? Lead? Wait, you didn’t get me ammo, did you?” he joked with a grin. “I didn’t think you approved of anything other than the rubber kind.”

Tim shook his head with an abashed smile. “Shut up and open it already.”

Jason slowly peeled back the paper to reveal black cloth and gold embossed letters. Tearing away the rest revealed a book. A huge-ass book. Jason studied the sides of it.

“Holy hell, Babybird, is this a book or a weapon or both…?”

His voice trailed off as he read the shiny title on the cover then whipped the cover open to check the title page.

The Library Shakspeare

Jason was speechless. He looked up at Tim then back down at the book and then flipped through the huge pages numbly. Tim cleared his throat.

“I… Alfred… I did some research and figured out that you really appreciate Shakespeare’s works, so I tracked down a copy of this thing,” Tim explained awkwardly. “It’s all his works, unabridged, everything from his comedies to his sonnets. Everything of import he ever wrote, all in a single volume.”

“With illustrations,” Jason added, staring at an old-style lithograph on one page. Tim choked out a laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, with some old crappy-ass pictures. Sorry. I always kind of ignored them in my copy….”

Jason shook his head and looked up at Tim again, stunned. “Man, no, this is awesome! Thank you.” He flipped through the pages again, tugging off one glove so he could run his bare fingers over the creamy smooth paper, stopping at one of the sonnets and mouthing the first familiar lines.

“I don't… I can't… This is amazing, man. Thanks for thinking of me. This is perfect.”

Tim smiled, looking relieved. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. You went through the effort to give me such meaningful gifts, I really wanted to return the favor.”

Jason scoffed. “I got you a sticker and a bag of marshmallows; that was nothing. This… oh man… this is way better than the little things I got you.”

Tim shrugged. “Yeah, I guess they were small and inexpensive, but they were thoughtful - I don’t even know when or how you found out about the marshmallows - and, well, they made me smile.” Jason looked up in time to catch a small smile lighten Tim’s face as he admitted as much to him. Jason mirrored the expression and repeated his thanks.

“But really; thank you, man. Best birthday gift in a long time.”

Tim jumped, eyes widening. “Oh, shit, hold on I almost forgot the…where’d I…” Jason cocked his head as Tim rifled through his pouches. “Aha! Here.”

Tim offered him a small resealable pouch and Jason opened it warily. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like best - I’m more of a coffee person, you know - but Alfred said you had a soft-spot for oolongs and the shop owner said that this was one of the best and…”

Jason lost track of what Tim said after that, he was too consumed by what he discovered when he examined the gift. The foil-lined pouch was filled with loose-leaf oolong, just as Tim had advertised, and the moment he lifted the pouch to take a careful sniff, he was gone. That shop owner hadn’t steered Tim wrong - this was a top quality, classic oolong, and Jason was drowning in the multi-dimensional floral notes, dying in the mellow grassy undertones, and coming back to life again in how light and perfectly balanced the combined fragrance was. If it smelled this good, it had to taste amazing.

“-son? Hey, Jason? Did… did I do okay?”

“Wh-what?” Jason blinked down at Tim, who had backed up a step and looked uncertain as he gestured to the tea. “Is… is it okay?”

Jason stared. “No. It’s not.” Tim’s face fell and he blanched. “Holy shit, babybird, no, it’s not okay, it’s so much better than okay, this has to be the best tea I’ve ever held. Jeez, man, you’re two for two with this gift… jeez… I don’t deserve all of this… you seriously outdid yourself, man.”

Tim blinked then broke out into a relieved laugh. “Got lucky, I guess. I thought it smelled interesting, but most of the credit goes to that tea shop guy. I’ll have to let him know his choice went over well.”

“Dude, jeez, give yourself some fucking credit. This is amazing man - the book, the tea - just… thank you. Really. Thank you, Tim.”

“You’re welcome.”

They lapsed into an uncertain silence after that, Jason sealing up the tea carefully and pulling out cord to bind the book closed for the trip home. Tim edged towards the lip of the roof as if he was thinking of taking off immediately now that his objective had been achieved.

“Hey, why don’t you-” Jason started at the same time Tim said “Well, I should really-”

They laughed. “You first,” Tim offered, pulling up his cowl at the same time he pulled out his grapple.

“Tonight’s been pretty slow, and I know you’re not a fan, but you should really try this tea,” Jason suggested. “One sip and you’ll understand how you really knocked it out of the park with this one. I’ve got a place nearby that I was gonna head back to soon, anyway; you should come over and we can try it out.”

Red Robin shifted uncertainly. “Are you sure?” This was the first time he had invited Tim to any of his safehouses, Jason realized, but screw it, Tim probably knew about most of them anyway - he’d already proven he knew about Tim’s when he gave him belated birthday gifts two months ago - and if they were at the stage where Tim cared enough to track him down after over a month to give him gifts of Shakespeare and tea that was worth more than its weight in silver, then it was way past time to give Tim the chance to prove he could be trusted in Jason’s home space.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Red Robin still looked uncomfortable, the lines of his body tense and his mouth downturned under the blank stare of his cowl. “I mean, I do have a few things I should follow up on anyway, so maybe…”

“You know what would probably taste like fucking heaven with this tea?” Jason cut in, sending Red a wink as he set down the book so he could get his hood on again. “Marshmallows. Really, Red, we gotta try it; you gotta try it with me. We can run by the mini-mart on the corner and pick up a bag of jumbo-puffed right now. Whaddya say?”

Red paused, then laughed out loud. Jason relaxed as he watched the tension bleed out of Red’s shoulders with the laughter. “Okay, you got me, now I gotta know what that tastes like. Let’s do it,” Red answered with a grin. He turned to face the street. “Lead the way.”

Red Hood pulled out his own grapple with one hand, balanced his new precious book in the other, and stepped up beside Red Robin, lining up his shot. “Try to keep up, Little Red.”

“Will do, Cinnamon-flavored Chewing Gum.”

Levi // Ch. 58 Edit: ChristmasRivers // Original: H. Isayama / image © Kodansha Ltd. (bonus 1 // bonus 2)