JayTim - Freeform // Pre-relationship; enemies to friends to lovers; jumping straight into the âweâre not really friends but we kind of are?â stage; Timâs obsession with marshmallows (thank Marcus To for that one) // 1.44K // Read on Ao3
âIâd never realized you prefer stick.â
Tim raised his eyebrows at the observation, but didnât spare a glance toward his passenger, opting instead to keep his eyes on the messy Gotham traffic ahead of him.
âI mean, I know for a fact Dick secretly prefers automatics,â Jason continued with a smirk, leaning forward to peer into Timâs face hoping to catch a reaction. âIâd always imagined you guys shared that in common.â
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 Bruceâs fancier âplayboy Wayneâ vehicles, they tended to be manuals or fancy semi-automatics.
But this wasnât patrol and they werenât in one of Bruceâs 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 Timâs 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 wasnât 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 heâd 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.
âWell, I guess it would make sense for you to prefer manuals. After all, you always hate to lose control; whatâs worse than having to cede control of which gear youâre in and how many RPMs you engine turns, huh?â
Tim shook his head at Jasonâs teasing tone, but to Jasonâs surprise he responded with words for the first time since Jason had stepped into the car.
âYouâre not too far off; I like driving manuals because it gives me a greater degree of control over the machine.â Tim frowned. âBut I wouldnât say I prefer manuals because I dislike the loss of control while driving an automatic.â The frown faded and a more thoughtful expression took its place.
âItâs more that I enjoy being able to push a car to its limits and then choose to drive it as conservatively as Iâd like, all in the span of a second, without having to punch a button or flip a switch to change a computer setting from âEconomy Shiftâ to âPerformance Shiftâ.â 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.
âI like how it feels,â Tim went on after a moment, âto 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.â 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,â Tim finished. He huffed a tired laugh and shot the ghost of a grin at Jason. âTo be honest, driving an automatic is just plain boring to me.â
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 Timâs cheekbones. Tim clearly hadnât 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 hadnât even realized heâd 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 werenât 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 heâd said.
âI know that probably sounds stupid but -â
âIt really doesnât,â Jason answered seriously. Timâs head whipped around at the sudden change of tone in Jasonâs voice before whipping back to dodge a stopped taxi at the last possible second. âItâs just so easy to zone out when you drive an automatic. And thereâs no challenge.â
Tim seemed surprised but nodded along emphatically with what Jason had to say. âYeah, exactly.â
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, Jasonâs eyes drifted over the date and he nearly jumped in his seat.
âHoly crap, todayâs your birthday isnât it? Happy birthday, man!â
âThanks,â Tim answered drily, once again shaking his head at the older boy. âYouâd better get going or weâll both be late.â
Jason nodded mutely and vaulted out of the car, slamming the door with one last apologetic âhappy birthdayâ 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? Heâd be damned if Bruce wasnât lead among that group, Jason growled to himself as he turned back towards the hotel. Jasonâs last thought as he stepped through the fancy front door was of something he had seen once that he had meant to track downâŚ
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 âTimmyâ in what Tim recognized as Jasonâs 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 donât 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 wouldnât 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 Iâll take the manual again. Just for fun.
He did. And he thought of Jason the entire time.
