jason the genius

  • jason: hey you got what I asked for?
  • tim: yeah
  • tim: I also couldn't sleep last night so I designed these boots that mimic socks on hard floor, but on any surface
  • tim: *pulls out a second, larger pair* we can be twinsies
  • jason:
  • jason: you are a genius and I dislike you the least out of all you bats
a Study in Red

Find this chapter here on Ao3.
Pairing:
JayTim
Summary:
Unbeknownst to Tim, Jason falls unexpectedly hard for a college kid that lives off brie.
or
The slow-build Stolen Kisses prompt wherein Jason needs a tutor and Tim miraculously finds the time to pencil him in. 
Author’s note: You know, my entry for the Feb JayTimWeek that turned into 25K+ words (and still going??). 
The biggest hug to @tanekore​ who is the most patient and supportive being on this planet, who did an art for this and has been holding onto it for an eternity. I still have a few chapters left to write, but in terms of posting…it was time.

Chapter 1:

“What’s the what?” Tim asked, propping his phone between his shoulder and chin. The class was packed and he struggled squeezing behind other students to get to an empty seat.

“If I’m on a building that’s thirty feet tall and the width of the street below is twenty feet wide–”

“What?” Tim interrupted again, just before bumping into a girl by accident. The hall was pure chaos, and Tim barely had a chance to offer her an apologetic smile before scrambling to claim an empty chair a few feet away. “Where are you?” he asked against the cool screen of his smartphone. “I mean – thirty feet tall? In Gotham?”

“Tim, ix-nay on the erd-nay – it’s a simple question. If the building is thirty feet tall–”

“Uh,” Tim interrupted, rifling through his pack in an effort to find his pencil bag. “I hate to break it to you, but no building in Gotham is thirty feet tall,” he countered, his voice nearly lost to the dull roar of the lecture hall – the place was a boisterous haze of mid-semester dread. “It’s an architectural thing. Each floor does have, like, a ten foot standard but you’ve got to calculate the interstitial space, and—”

“Tim,” Jason said, half-serious. “Timbo-yo-himbo. Timbo-Slice . You’re making this way too complicated.”

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