After a late night patrol, Jason stays the night at Tim's penthouse. Bored during breakfast the next day, he repeatedly caps and uncaps the ketchup bottle and breaks the comfortable silence with a calm, almost absent tone.
"What's the worst insult anybody's ever given you that you haven't been able to argue against?"
Barely awake, Tim robotically chews on his toast and lifts half-open eyes to squint at him across the table. Noting his lack of comprehension, Jason half-shrugs, offering up, "Like- one time Roy told me I looked like the kind of guy who would get lonely and order 'evening company' at a hotel while genuinely believing I was just asking for a friend to hang out with." He uncapped the bottle again, pouting at it slightly. "And like, that's really fucking mean; but I can't argue against it, you know?"
When he looks back over at Tim, his brother is staring at him mid-chew, clearly amused and fighting a smile. The confession warms him up enough that when he swallows he offers his own.
"I guess it wasn't like- like. Like his point was completely false, but somehow the evidence was matching up, you know? So I couldn't argue it? There was a patrol, like a few months ago. And I got in a fight with this dude." He poked at his plate, speaking blandly, and Jason took the ketchup bottle in hand so he could graduate from cap-flipping to screwing and unscrewing the top. "It was like- there had been a family dinner, or something, I guess, and they got into an argument that had become a street fight? and it was about how this guy's niece was gay or something, and it was a slow night, y'know? So I was arguing with him about it. And his argument was that gayness was a sign that humanity was becoming defective--and I looked him up afterwards, he had stage two cancer, so like... I dunno how he thought him being straight but cancerous made him any less defective than a healthy girl who likes pussy, y'know-?"
Jason fumbled, squeezing the bottle too tight and exploding a shot of ketchup directly upwards onto the ceiling. He stared up at it, eyes wide, jaw open, as Tim continued to look down at his plate. He hadn't even noticed, just kept on mumbling.
"-'N so we were arguing, and he was like, being gay isn't real, blah blah blah, right? And I said, you know, how could being gay not be real? Like, I don't think there's a single member of my family who hasn't at least tried being gay, right? All the bats are fruit bats in a way."
Jason abruptly looked down from the ketchup stain, eyes narrowing in affront.
"And he looked at me from across the street and he just yelled 'all the bats being gay doesn't do anything but prove that being gay is synonymous with extreme mental health issues', which," Tim paused, shrugging and sticking his bottom lip out. Finally, he looked back across at Jason, not noticing the glare. "I didn't really know- I just had to taze him unconscious and leave it at that, y'know? There's not really a good response to that sort of..,"
He trailed off, tilting his head, eyes tracking upwards. "...How'd ketchup get up there?" He asked blandly.
"I never told you I was gay." Jason snapped.
"It's like... it's right up there, man. It's gonna smell."
"I've literally never spoken to you about my love life whatsoever. How'd you know?"
"I'm not tall enough to repaint up there." Slightly mystified, Tim met Jason's increasingly incredulous eyes. "Do you think it will stain?"
Jason stood up from his chair, slamming his hands down against the table. Tim blinked as cutlery rattled and he yelled, "STOP SPYING ON ME DURING MY NIGHTS OFF."
Three seconds of silence. A glob of ketchup fell from the ceiling, directly onto the handle of Jason's coffee mug. Tim's eyes tracked it.
Emotionless, "You and Roy have a date night every two weeks, right?" Jason's face morphed into an expression of pure offense. "The last one was at the Italian place on fifth, last week. Do you think when he comes to Gotham next week you could bring him over here? Between the two of you we could probably reach the ketchup stain."
Jason stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open. Tim looked back blankly.
Slowly, like a cornered dog, Jason lowered himself back into his chair. Trying to keep his dignity, he straightened, and casually, "...So are you the only one whose clocked that we're together then? Or do B and Dick know too?"
"If Dick knew he would have tried to threaten Roy by now," Tim pointed out. "And I don't even think Bruce is even aware that he and Clark are together, let alone whoever you're fucking."
"Sure. Wanna stop on the way to work and grab smoothies?"
pixelskylines
germansingergirl
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
