Jason comes crashing through Tim's door, guns out and eyes wild. "What's wrong?" he demands, looking around the seemingly calm apartment. "Your text said 'help me'," he says, breathing hard. He asks again, "What's wrong?". Tim looks up at him from his nest on the couch and says, "Oh you weren't already here? I just wanted the remote." Jason stares. "I can't reach it," Tim explains. Then, "Hey since you're over there can you get me some ice cream from the freezer?" (Have fun at work <3)
“Are you fuckin kidding me Replacement?” Jason asks as he holsters his guns and throws the remote at Tim’s head. It was only a foot away from him, the lazy fuck.
Tim just snuggles deeper into his cocoon and changes the channel from X-Files to his security feed at W.E.
Jason grabs two spoons from the dish washer and the cookie dough ice cream from the freezer, kicks off his boots and flops onto the couch next to Tim.
“Are you wearing your Superman pajama pants with a thigh holster over it? Clark would be so disappointed,” Tim says, extracting one arm from his nest and taking a spoon.
“I thought you were dying,” Jason mutters, wrapping his free around Tim and changing the channel to HGTV.
“I was watching that,” Tim says, not bothering to fight Jason for the remote, instead settling for another bite of ice cream.
“Well now were watching this,” Jason says, “You fucking brat.”
Tim doesn’t disagree, he just snuggles into Jason’s chest, relishing the fact that they would never argue over crown molding or hardwood floors like the couples on the TV, they’d argue (fight, brawl) over where to put the false walls for weapons storage and maybe over tiles for the bathroom.