thirdbirdwonder replied to your post: … *He’s not sure how to address Jason without verbally using his name. Well, he knows -one- way, but he’s not certain if Jason still remembers everything from his ‘bat scout training’ as Kon would say. There’s not point in -not- trying it anyways. He uses sign language instead of speaking* [Are you okay? How long will the spell last? ] *He’s concerned, he doesn’t like the idea of people being able to toy around with Jason without Jay’s consent*

*Tim doesn’t have a spell cast on him, and yet, Jason’s nickname is just as flustering for him as he thinks it would be for Jason to hear his name. He tries not to dwell on it, but he does end up a little warm for it* [Is there anything I can do?]

Jason leans down a little to press a kiss to Tim's lips, and then draws away before Tim has a chance to respond. Tim is- well. Very quickly becoming everything to Jason. He doesn't think he's trusted anyone with this much since he returned from the dead, except for maybe Dick, who knows him inside and out anyways. And Tim is amazing. He doesn't judge Jason, isn't constantly suspicious, or oh-so-weary in the way that Dick can be sometimes. He's beautiful, and he's everything Jason wants.

((omfg honey

Jason's bleeding. He's bleeding a lot, and no matter now much pressure he puts on the cut in his side, it's not stopping. Every time he moves it pulls and hurts and bleeds even more, and his vision is starting to get hazy at the edges. But he can't sop fighting, because they'll kill him. Again.

Jason had gotten distracted for a single instant, made a small noise where he was hidden in the shadows, and then six guys had been on his, almost every one bigger than him. He'd managed to take two out, but then one had gotten in a lucky sweep with a serrated blade, opening a deep, jagged cut along Jason's ribs, and things had been going downhill from there. His only chance is to run.

With two swift kicks, he breaks the looming walls of thugs and bolts through the gap, headed for shadows and shelter, and any advantage he can find. They follow on his heels, and Jason thinks for a minute that maybe he's going to get away. Then he runs head first into a brick wall at the end of an alley, and with growing fear, he turns to face his assailants. They're advancing, grins on their faces and bloodied knives in their hands, and Jason thinks, I'm fucked.

Then, out of nowhere, a figure wrapped in black and red drops from above, fett slamming into the heads of two of the guys, and with swift blows and easy grace, Jason's saviour picks off the other three.

"Jesus," Jason pants through blood loss and pain. "You have good timing, baby bird."

Tim turns to grin at Jason. "It's a good thing, too. You looked a bit stuck." Then he gaze wanders down Jason's ches to where he still has one hand pressed to the gash. "Oh my god," Tim says, hurrying forward. "How long have you been bleeding?"

"Long enough," Jason grunts, and leans back against the wall so that he doesn't topple over. The adrenaline is fading, and now everything just hurts. "Fuck."

"Let's get you back to the Cave," Tim says. "I know, I know. But it's fastest. Okay?"

Jason is feeling tired and cold, and he trusts Tim. "Yeah. Jus' this once, b'by bird."

Probably all of you.

Eyes.

I. Uh. Yeah, I would say that.

Really damn good.