a Study in Red (Chapter 5)
Author: Ladelle | Drabblemeister Pairing: JayTim Author’s Notes: I have more in-depth notes on Ao3, but ultimately, I really love this story and am looking forward to finishing it. <3
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Chapter 5:
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” Tim said, just before leaving his helmet to dangle precariously from the handlebar of his bike. Behind him, the bay door rattled shut, and he took the mezzanine stairs two at a time to make it to the platform. He was running late, and felt guilty.
Jason smirked, just before reaching out. Tim flinched when Jason’s fingers came too close to his face, but it turned out it was his hair that had drawn attention.
“Did I miss a rainstorm?” Jason asked, tugging at a damp curl.
Tim batted his hand away. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me for showering,” he pointed out. “Today was a long day and yesterday was a long night and I deserved it.”
Jason stepped back to allow Tim inside, amused all the same. “The fact you consider bathing a reward…” he let the insinuation linger, unfinished. “You know, most people treat themselves to ice cream after a rough day.”
“Is that an offer?” Tim perked, turning to study Jason’s reaction. The neckline of his shirt was damp, and the cool chill of Jason’s place gave him goosebumps.
At that, Jason smirked. “We could go get some. Or you could have chicken parm. Your choice.”
It was nearly midnight and so the offer only carried so much weight. Ice cream this late meant a pint from a grocery store, and Tim didn’t trust himself not to eat the entire thing in one sitting and have no ‘dinner’ at all. Which, honestly, was typical, but something told him Jason would nag him about it all night.
So, Tim groaned and made grabby hands. “All the carbs,” he said, and his stomach made a dire sound that seconded the request. Jason wasn’t decent enough to pretend like he didn’t hear, and instead interrogated him on what he’d eaten earlier in the day.
Tim wasn’t afraid enough of Jason to lie.
“I can’t believe you’ve survived this long,” Jason said, once he’d planted a plate in front of Tim at the table. It was void of bow parts, so Tim made the assumption that Roy had gotten over his frustration, put his weapon back together and left to finish whatever he’d started.
“Out of everything you know about me,” Tim said, fitting the rest of his comment between bites, “I’m amused you’ve decided to feel most concerned about my hamburger intake.”
Jason was dressed down for the occasion, wearing a loose shirt and shorts, looking like he’d probably showered at some point too. His hair was styled enough for Tim to realize it needed a trim; the hair shaved at the sides of his scalp had grown long enough for the ends to go awry.
“What should I feel most concerned about?” Jason asked, folding his hands into his pockets as he tipped back in his chair.
Tim glanced to the ceiling in thought before downing some water, content that his stomach was starting to feel less like a barren wasteland. His brain chose to meander all possibilities, and while Red Robin seemed the obvious route, he instead replied, “New-hire tour.”
It was unexpected, so Jason puffed a laugh. “What, afraid you’ll get lost?”
If Tim were anyone but himself, he figured that might be a problem; after all, Wayne Enterprises was a skyscraper with multiple divisions, and he only knew all of them by heart because he had a thing about memorizing exits.
“Bruce is with the League,” Tim clarified, twirling his fork to collect pasta. When it completed a loop, he stabbed a square of chicken with it. “Tomorrow’s going to be 100% social exertion, maximum effort.”
“Tomorrow’s my test,” Jason pointed out.
After swallowing his bite, Tim nodded. “If you stumble across questions that you don’t know and start to feel frustration, just imagine me fielding questions like How many cars does Mr. Wayne own? and Is it true, what happened to his parents?”
“You’re not serious,” Jason stated, flatly.
Tim gave him a dead-eyed look that implied he most certainly was.
Jason shook his head in disbelief before opting to pick at Tim’s other comment. “I’m hoping to keep my frustration to a minimum by cementing some things tonight. I had time to kill, so I went through the book and circled the sections that I feel I could use more practice on.”
“Did you print any practice tests?” Tim quirked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, I was halfway through one before you got here.”
Tim turned to look over his shoulder; he saw Jason’s coffee table littered with books and papers and a handful of mechanical pencils. The sight was another reminder of how important this was to Jason, and while Tim didn’t know if he fully understood, he’d somehow come to grasp that Jason had adopted, for lack of a better term, a new lease on life.
Dying had changed him, but that was a stupid thing to be surprised about. Tim hadn’t known Jason before, but he’d seen him; he’d collected clippings and idolized a kid barely older than himself that wasn’t afraid to take on the world.
At the core, Jason was still that boy, but he was hungrier – desperate to do what he wanted in order to make up for lost time. To prove something to himself, really, and as Tim leaned forward onto the table, chin coming to rest on his upturned palm, he couldn’t help but tap his fingers idly on his lips.
He must have been wearing an odd expression, because Jason returned his gaze with a stare.
“What?” Jason asked.
Tim thought to mention what was on his mind, that Jason didn’t really have anything to prove to anyone, but the words caught in his chest and clung to his beating heart.
“Don’t go slacking on my account,” Tim decided to say, delivering a feigned look of judgement. “Go finish your test. When I’m done eating I’ll take care of my plate.”
Jason brought his chair back, flat to the ground, and looked like he might cry. “Baby’s all grown up, doing dishes…”
Tim flicked a crumbled bit of breading Jason’s direction and said, “Go.”
“Yes sir,” Jason tossed back, only to add, “There’s coffee in the kitchen for you, too.”
“Mm, my kind of dessert,” Tim sighed happily, just before making a shooing motion. An amused smile toyed with the corners of Jason’s mouth, and he simply shook his head and disappeared from sight. Tim heard paper rustle behind him, and shortly after, the rhythmic scritch-scritch of pencil marks.
The chicken left on Tim’s plate didn’t take long to vanish, and when he’d eaten the last bite, Tim felt the familiar lull of a food coma coming on. He was content and full, and realized the sound of Jason working had become comfortably familiar.
As promised, he washed his plate. It went into the dishwasher after he’d scrubbed it clean, though Tim spent a good minute examining Jason’s other plates to make sure the quality of his attempt matched. Behind him, a coffee maker gurgled and hissed and Tim spent another minute searching for mugs.
“Do you want any?” Tim called to Jason, curling his fingers around coffee-warmed porcelain.
“Unlike you,” Jason quipped, “I intend on sleeping at some point tonight.”
Tim eyed the amount of coffee that Jason had brewed and came to two conclusions – Jason either didn’t make coffee often enough and hadn’t mastered serving sizes, or two: Jason thought Tim literally drank entire pots in one sitting. Both ideas were amusing, and Tim was tempted to simply carry the pot out with him and pretend like he typically just drank from the rim.
“I’m done, Tim-sensei,” Jason said, raising his voice just enough to carry the distance. Tim nearly burned his lips on the darkest roast he’d tasted in awhile, and made his way out to the table.
“Are you now?” he asked, dropping to sit. Taking a few sips of coffee meant the mug was less likely to spill everywhere, and Tim felt his knee bump Jason’s thigh as he leaned forward to look over the sample test’s questions.
“This one felt easier than usual,” Jason said, his tone a bit huffy. “I think the material is old.”
There were only so many practice exams one could find, and so Tim didn’t doubt that was a possible truth. “It’s more likely you just know what you’re doing now,” he said, eyes glued to the question sheet as he pulled it closer. As he skimmed the small print, he asked, “What are you most nervous about?”
“Everything?” Jason admitted, tapping his pencil’s eraser on his answer sheet. “It’s not like I don’t get the concepts. It’s just...cramming all of this has been a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, but just wait,” Tim said, shifting so that he could snag Jason’s answer sheet and start working through the problems himself. “Tomorrow, you’ll see it was all worth it.”
Jason didn’t say anything, but Tim felt the weight of his gaze. It didn’t quite feel like skepticism.
“You said you circled certain sections?” he finally prompted, quietly ticking off answers Jason had gotten correct. In response, Jason grabbed at his prep book and began flipping through the pages, looking for the topics he’d flagged.
“It’s mostly math,” Jason said. “Is there anyone living and breathing on this earth that even uses these formulas?”
Tim’s eyes darted to the page he was referring to and he tried not to laugh when he raised his hand, as if to say, me . “Statistics are important, Jay.”
“Shh,” Jason hushed him. “You’re not allowed an opinion when you can do all this crap in your head.”
This time, Tim did laugh. “Okay, now that is an overstatement.”
Jason feigned surprise. “You mean you can’t calculate the mean of the difference, standard deviation, or z-score with your eyes closed?”
As funny as Tim thought the question was, he wondered about it; he leaned forward and read the problem, seeing a challenge. Beside him, Jason sat forward, propping his arm on the table as he watched Tim think.
When Tim was sure he had the basics of the problem and the numbers down, he leaned back and tipped his chin up just before letting his eyes slip closed. Jason hadn’t said anything about being quiet , so Tim mumbled bits and pieces, shaking his head and backtracking every now and then when he caught an error in his math.
Finally, he said to the darkness, “The mean difference should be .05.” He paused to move to the next part, numbers moving in straight lines in his head, slowly working themselves out, until he finally spoke again. “The standard deviation should be...the square root of...okay, .0049087, so yeah, standard deviation is .0706, right? So the probability is...let’s see…”
Jason kissed him.
It was a sudden, fleeting thing, an accident that burned warm against Tim’s lips and tasted like promise. When Tim’s eyes snapped open, Jason’s gaze nearly swallowed him whole; the inches between them felt like a dare, felt like a challenge - closing that gap, Tim knew, was inevitable.
“Tell me no,” Jason said.
Tim found that he couldn’t.
The feeling came like fire and the world tilted – only it wasn’t the world, it was Tim; he was moving, crawling forward, tangling fingers in the collar of Jason’s shirt while chasing perfect, parted lips.
It was clumsy; knees bumped knees and limbs butted the table, and when the palm of Tim’s hand fell flat against Jason’s chest, he felt mesmerized by the heartbeat that jackhammered beneath his touch. Every breath he took, Jason matched. Every sharp gasp, Jason made to devour.
“Are we going to talk –” Jason broke off to swallow just before shoving the table sideways and pressing forward, knocking Tim flat on his back, “– about yesterday?”
Tim’s eyes were on the ceiling as he panted, grasping for any inch of Jason he could reach. The effort proved fruitless as Jason lingered low and between his legs, wrenching up Tim’s shirt in order to trail hot kisses across his stomach.
“What?” Tim asked, stupidly. Lust was a saffron-colored haze that muddled his thoughts, and Jason’s tongue was a red string that tied them both together.
Words whispered against Tim’s skin in plumes. “You were upset,” Jason said, and Tim arched his back when Jason gripped his thighs, thumbs teasing the inseam of Tim’s jeans.
“Upset,” Tim repeated.
The whole wanting something you’re too afraid to ask for. Tim laughed because now, it seemed pretty funny. “So it was about sex,” he let out a breath. “Not that I’m –ah – complaining–” because he wasn’t, not now, not in the heat of it. After all – he understood what was happening.
Pent up frustration. Night-after-night, risking lives, reaching for small slivers of intimacy that proved, irrevocably, that one was alive. And he knew, very practically, that tomorrow would be the end, that he and Jason would rarely cross paths, if ever, because this tutoring thing – it was an excuse. And really, the only one they had.
Their occupations didn’t really leave room for commitment. And Tim thought that, more than anyone, Jason would agree that life held no guarantees.
But Jason said, “So you like me.” And Tim, for the life of him, couldn’t follow. Caught in a haze of heart-thudding heat and want, Tim said, “I’m fine with this?” because why so much thinking?
Jason rose like a wave, mouth red, glossy from the map he’d drawn on Tim’s abdomen with his tongue. He crawled high enough to kiss Tim again, dragging one of Tim’s wrists above his head, soft against the carpet.
“That didn’t answer my question.” Jason pulled away just enough to suck at Tim’s lower lip. His eyes pinned Tim in place–
– and Tim found himself cornered by that gaze. Something other than lust flooded Tim’s mind – a feeling like falling, but Tim wasn’t ready. So you like me. He was dropping without a line.
“You’re making things complicated,” Tim said, tipping his chin up in an attempt to win another kiss – to get off this tangent. “I’m not saying no.”
Even though he wanted to say yes. It was an admission lodged in his throat, a vulnerability he wasn’t willing to give. He only had control of so many things, and Jason wasn’t one of them.
The hunger in Jason’s eyes curbed, only to be replaced with something else. Disbelief? Annoyance? Tim couldn’t tell the difference, but he was smart enough to know that Jason’s mood had somehow turned volcanic.
“You’re driving me insane.”
Dragging his knee upward and between Jason’s thighs, Tim replied, “So loosen up. This isn’t rocket science.”
Jason was too quick to throw back, “You sure about that?”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Excuse me,” Tim said, stabbing a finger into Jason’s sternum. “You started this.”
And when Jason immediately attempted to recover, Tim rolled his eyes and upended himself, embittered enough to pull his wrist from Jason’s grasp and push himself up, which forced Jason to reel back in order to avoid a collision.
“You only started talking to me because of this test. It’s not like you were going to keep this up after tomorrow,” Tim said. “ Admit that I like you. What, do you even like me?”
“Tim. ” Jason huffed. “ Wait –”
It was terrible timing, the front door opening – Roy traipsing in with his trademark grin, looking like he’d shown up to divulge a particularly humorous story that, Tim assumed, must have to do with the blood weeping from his shoulder.
At the sight of Jason and Tim, Roy apparently thought better of whatever he had to say, eyes darting between them.
“Uh…”
“Fucking hell, Harper,” Jason said as he stood up, attention drawn to what was obviously more important. After all, Roy’s blood was staining the carpet.
Tim, feeling a sudden crash of adrenaline, realized that he couldn’t stay. The rush of desire had turned into something else – something he couldn’t quite work out. Regret?
Jason was across the room in moments, prodding at Roy’s side. “What is this? Did you get shot?”
“My guy, I can take care of it,” Roy said a bit too easily, batting Jason’s hand away. His eyes darted to Tim – and Tim, knowing concern when he saw it, simply turned his attention away and began gathering his things.
“Bullshit,” Jason replied. When he finally looked back an over his shoulder, mouth half open to say something to Tim, it was evidently too late.
Tim hadn’t brought too much and so his departure was a quick affair. When he ventured closer to the door, he told Roy, “I hope it’s not serious,” because really, he did.
Still, he couldn’t help but hear Timothy Drake-Wayne in his voice, which meant he was a bit more put off than he thought.
“It ain’t,” Roy stated. “Nothing for either of you to get all worked up about. You don’t hav’ta leave.”
Tim offered a practiced smile that he hoped was convincing. “I was just getting ready to head out,” he said, and slid his attention to Jason. “Good luck tomorrow. You…” he paused, trying to put his pride aside for something the he really meant. “You’re going to do great.”
Glancing between them, Roy asked, “What’s happening tomorrow?”
Neither answered. Instead, Jason took on a sullen demeanor that Tim hadn’t expected.
“Yeah.”
All at once, Tim could feel it – a space between them he was both desperate and terrified to fill.
Brushing his fingers against his back pocket, checking for his phone and keys, Tim swallowed. He was quick to say, “I’ve gotta go.”
It wasn’t until he was on his bike, breezing thirty miles over the speed limit that he realized he was running, and that somehow, he’d become very good at it.