Hello! I was wondering if you weren't busy and if you don't mind, could you write a fic where Bruce walks in on Jason and Tim kissing or something like that and they have to come up with an excuse?
Tim’s laying on top of Jason, pressing him into the blankets with his whole body. His hands wrap around Jason’s wrists and pin them to the bed while his tongue licks at Jason’s bottom lip, light and quick and gone as soon as Jason reaches for it. Jason tries to chase after Tim’s mouth but Tim pulls up, away, smiling, and Jason whines. A little. Maybe.
Tim keeps doing that, teasing, over and over until Jason is squirming, feet tangling in the sheets and he’s panting, making these desperate little noises that he really can’t be assed to be embarrassed about, especially when Tim finally, finally leans down and stays there, tongue falling into Jason’s mouth and Jason groans happily.
Tim kisses him, and kisses him, and Jason hasn’t ever felt so perfectly blissful in his entire life.
And then the door creaks open, and the bliss is instantly gone. In its place now is dread, and fear, and Jason didn’t think he was truly afraid of anything anymore, but suddenly there’s Bruce, standing in the doorway, looking at them with wide eyes and Jason panics. He tosses Tim off of him and jumps up from the bed.
“Um, hey! Bruce. B. B-man. We were, uh, practicing CPR. You know, brushing up on the old life-saving skills. Super important. Okay, I’ll see you, bye!”
And then Jason runs out of Tim’s room, out of the manor.
“Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation practice?” Dick crosses his judging arms over his judging chest and looks at Jason with his stupid, judging face. “Really? That’s what you went with?”
“…Tim told you?”
“Yeah, he came and asked me why you were such an idiot about it.”
“He did not.”
“I swear, those were his exact words.”
Jason groans, a weak, pathetic sound. He rubs his face. His stupid, idiotic face. “Is he mad?”
Dick tilts his head. “Not mad, exactly. He was a little pissed you left him on the floor-”
“Way to go, by the way. Really nice.”
“I- I… don’t know,” Jason sighs.
“Well, figure it out and then go talk to Tim about it,” Dick says. “And then maybe Bruce.”
Jason grimaces. “So I’m guessing he didn’t buy the CPR thing?”
Jason finds Tim in his bedroom, sitting on the bed with his computer in his lap, typing away. He glances up from his work as Jason enters.
“Careful,” Tim warns with exaggerated concern, “Bruce is home. He might see you in here.”
“Oh, so brave.”
Jason comes up next to the bed and asks, “Can I sit?”
Tim keeps typing, not giving an answer one way or an another, so Jason stays standing.
“I’m sorry, Tim.”
The clicking of the keys stops and Tim sighs. He closes his laptop and sets it aside. He looks up at Jason, his hair messy and baggy clothes rumpled, like he’s been sitting right there working for hours, days, non-stop. He probably has.
“What the fuck happened, Jason?” He doesn’t sound very angry, just… confused. Irritated.
“I panicked,” Jason says, again, because that’s the only way he can think to describe it. He’s been trained to think before he acts, even when he only has a split-second to make a decision. But he wasn’t thinking when he pushed Tim away.
“That’s not really an answer, Jay.” Tim scoots over to make room and pats the open space.
Jason takes the invitation and sits down. “I know, I’m sorry. I just. I saw Bruce and in my head I heard everything he might say, and I. Couldn’t. I couldn’t stay and hear him say it out loud.”
“What did you think he was going to say?” Tim asks.
Jason forces his teeth to unclench. Swallows. “That… that I’m not any good for you, and that I should leave and stay away and. And we just recently got to a point where Bruce doesn’t glare at me every time I come over, or watch me like he thinks I’m suddenly going to freak out and shoot everyone. I don’t want to go back to that- or worse, not be allowed in the manor at all.”
Tim is silent for a minute, and then, “You want to know what he said to me after you ran out?”
Jason doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s scared to hear it.
Tim says it anyway. “He asked me if there was anything he needed to be worried about, and I told him no, and he accepted it. Then he asked me if I was happy, and I said yes, and he accepted that, too.”
“He did?” Jason asks, and his voice comes out too soft.
“Yeah.” Tim smiles. “And then he told me to wipe the spit off my chin before I came down for dinner.”
Jason laughs, startled, and a little disbelieving. He looks at Tim’s chin. He wants to kiss it. “I’m sorry for throwing you on the floor.”
Tim moves, quick and strong, and when Jason blinks his eyes open again he’s on the floor, on his back, and Tim is straddling him, looking down at him triumphantly. “There. Now we’re even,” he says, and then he leans down and kisses Jason.
“The door is still open,” Jason reminds him.
“I don’t care. Do you?”
“No,” Jason answers. He pulls Tim down for another kiss.