quick, before you skip the song
“Are you sure you wanna ask Bruce, Jason…?”
Jason rolled his eyes, sticking his key into the door and unlocking it.
“Look ‘ere, Timmy, Bruce ain’t gonna mind ya sleepin’ over,” he said for the fourth time since bringing the subject up downstairs. “Put my life on it.”
Tim looked alarmed as he followed Jason into the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him once they were inside.
“No,” he rushed. “Don’t bet your life on it!”
Jason squinted at his eleven-year-old friend as he flopped back on the couch. “‘N’ why not?”
Tim made some wild gesture with his hands, which wasn’t an answer, frantically stumbling over his words as he sat down on the couch.
“Because!” he finally managed to say. “You don’t know if he’ll be okay with it.”
Jason rolled his eyes so hard he was sure they were well on their way to California.
“Last time I’ma say it, Timbit: Bruce ain’t gonna have an issue.” He yawned before adding, “Now quit stressin’ over it. S’not like your parents ‘re gonna care.”
“Jason,” Bruce sighed, stepping into the living room. He paused, probably changing his mind about something, and asked, “What am I not going to mind?”
Before Tim could offer a response with too many “if you wouldn’t mind”, “you really don’t have to”, or “I’m okay with you saying no”s, Jason raised his voice a little to speak over him.
“I was tellin’ Timbit here that ya ain’t gonna have a problem with him sleepin’ over,” he said. “Damn kid wouldn’t shut the fuck up with his hesitatin’.”
Tim’s cheeks pinked a little and Jason rolled his eyes--for what had to be the third time in a row--when he said, “It’s just a little hard for me to believe!”
Pushing himself up on his elbows, Jason gave Tim the most Done look he could muster and drawled, “Well, ya better start believein’.”
Glancing over to where Bruce was still standing, Jason raised a brow at him.
Bruce understood it as a cue to say something, which, good, Jason was going to go mad if he had to put up with Tim’s hesitation any longer.
“I don’t mind if you sleep over at all, Tim,” Bruce reassured with a small smile, ruffling Tim’s hair when he’d walked over. “You know our door is always open to you.”
“I fuckin’ told ya,” Jason immediately crowed in triumph.
Tim threw a couch pillow at him and Jason laughed.
"Do you know when you're planning on having the sleep over?" Bruce asked, walking over to ruffle Jason's hair too.
Jason allowed it, tilting his head up at his dad, and said, "Could he sleep over t'morrow? S'a Friday."
"I'm home all week for the next two weeks," Bruce answered, looking over at Tim then back at Jason again, pocketing his hands. "If you two wanted, Tim could sleep over every day."
That was an even better deal than Jason thought they'd get, and he sent an excited look over at Tim.
"Ya heard? Two weeks! We could take ya ta school too!"
Looking at Tim, Bruce asked, "Are your parents in town?"
Of course, Tim shook his head. Jason was going to fight his parents one day.
"They left this morning," he said. "Mrs. Mac isn't staying with me anymore either. Mom and Dad fired her."
Bruce frowned and Jason scowled. Tim had liked Mrs. Mac.
"How long are they going to be gone for?" Bruce prompted, and Jason could sense where this was going.
Tim made a face as he thought. "Two months, I think?"
Bruce made some weird noise and said, "You can stay with us until they come back. I can probably get Hal or someone else to cover for me for a month, and I think Dick is going to be home the month I leave again. He can stay with you two."
"Don't forget Ms. Esther from across the hall," Jason added, smiling. "An' James."
Bruce nodded. "And Ms. Esther and her son James."
Tim looked both excited and nervous at the same time.
"Are you sure, Mr. Wayne…?"
Face softening, Bruce kneeled down in front of Tim on the couch. "It's just Bruce, Tim. And I am very sure."
Tim's face lit up and he threw his arms around Bruce's neck in a hug that Bruce didn't hesitate to return.
Jason yawned very loudly, rolling off the couch to stand up and go change out of his uniform.
He was pretty excited to have Tim around for so long. Jason, for some unknown reason he couldn't explain, was starting to become very protective of the kid.
"Hey, Dad," he called from his room as he pulled on some basketball shorts he never used to play basketball. "We got any food?"
"Yeah," he heard Bruce call back, and he snickered at the loud crash to follow.
"We're okay!" Tim yelled.
Jason shook his head, grabbing some clothes for Tim after putting on one of Bruce's t-shirts he'd stolen and walking out to the kitchen barefoot.
The kitchen was okay, but the pan and two broken eggs on the floor weren't.
"What were ya plannin' with tha eggs?" he asked, eyeing the three sandwiches already made on the table.
Bruce grabbed some napkins and Jason shoved the clothes in his hands at Tim as he made to help his dad.
"That was Ms. Esther's pan, and I was planning on making her an omelette as a thank you," Bruce explained as Tim disappeared to change into the clothes without argument, wrinkling his nose.
Jason snorted, straightening to toss the dirty napkins away, and snarked, "The floor sure 'preciat'd the eggs."
Bruce sighed and threw away his napkins too.
Wordlessly, Jason held his hand out, staring at Bruce.
His dad stared back at him.
Tim walked into the room and stared at them both, brow wrinkled in confusion.
Jason quirked an eyebrow of his own and Bruce made a face as he handed Jason the pot.
"Outta my kitch'n," Jason said, smiling. "I got ya covered with tha omelette." He paused, considering. "It ain't gonna be tha best but s'gonna be better than whatever ya were gonna scrape t'gether."
Bruce huffed indignantly. "Ms. Esther?"
Jason's grin grew. "Ms. Esther."
"Of course she taught you how to make omelettes," Bruce sighed. "Okay. I'm going to call Hal, and when you're done with being Master Chef Jason, we can go to the grocery store."
"'kay," Jason answered, sifting through cabinets for the ingredients he was going to use. "Timbo, ya wanna help or jus' stand there?"
Tim seemed surprised to be addressed, and Jason definitely hadn't forgotten about him. Tim would be included in everything Jason could bring him into.
"I don't know how to make an omelette," he admitted, and Jason shrugged.
"S'alright. I can teach ya."
Tim seemed to consider before he walked over.
Jason and Tim spent the next few minutes making the meal, then waited for Bruce to finish his phonecall with Hal as they knocked on Ms. Esther's door, delivered the pan and omelette, hugged and kissed her, then returned with a plate stacked with home-made treats.
When they walked back into the apartment, Bruce was shrugging into a jacket.
"We gonna go?" Jason asked, popping a pastry into his mouth.
Bruce grabbed one of the baked goods for himself, taking a bite, ruffled Jason's hair then Tim's, swallowed the food in his mouth, and answered, "Yes. Go put on shoes and a sweater."
Jason rolled his eyes, grabbing two more pastries, and dashed off to his room.
As he put on his shoes and chewed on the delectable treats Ms. Esther had given them, Jason smiled to himself.
Yeah he was fifteen and one of his best friends was four years younger, but that didn't matter. He was happy with his choice in friendships, and nobody ever said sleepovers had an age limit.
He was looking forward to the next two months.
