The first time Jason saw Tim off duty and away from the rest of the Bats, he walked directly into a parked car and almost gave himself a concussion.
Tim looked different when he wasn’t playing the part of Tim Drake-Wayne or of Red Robin. His long hair was pulled into a bun, his muscular legs clad in tight jeans and a worn flannel hanging open with a vintage band shirt under it. He even carried himself differently, somehow less stiff and more fluid, his limbs loos. He looked over at the sound of Jason running into the car and grinned.
In that moment Jason knew he was completely and utterly fucked.