#toocool2btrue

[j-wilson-md]

He loved me. And I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.

[j-wilson-md]

What a useless word.

[generatorkitty]

Jaytim 3 please please!!

3. “Are you jealous or something?” also requested by @jxstyn169

~

Tim was tired, an exhaustion that had settled in years ago and made a home in his weary bones and muscles, nestled in his heart and around his brain. It was born of loss and responsibility and exposure to things that children should never see. And he wasn’t a child any longer, but he hadn’t quite healed right, even after all those years. 

Jason plopped down next to Tim, dangling his boot-clad feet over the edge of the high-rise. Wind pulled at his jacket, the leather snapping against itself.

“How you doing, honey?”

Tim looked out over the city. The office buildings and hotels, the bridges, the polluted river. Dirty streets and dirty hands. “Tired,” he said, feeling the pressure of the entirety of Gotham pushing down on him. He felt his suit tightening around his body, the mask digging into his cheeks.

He looked at Jason, who simply nodded. Jason, who was tired too. Who had always been tired and had finally gotten to rest, only to be dragged away from it. Screaming.

“Yeah,” Jason breathed, and pulled Tim gently until he leaned into Jason’s side.

Tim let himself be tucked under Jason’s arm, let himself accept the comfort for just a moment.

Then he straightened up.

“I have work to do,” he said reluctantly.

“Is it more important than me?” Jason asked.

Tim gave a little half-smile. “Are you jealous or something?”

“Maybe,” Jason said with a shrug, and Tim paused, really looked at him, because he didn’t seem to be joking. Jason met his eyes, then glanced away. “Just haven’t gotten to spend any time with you lately is all. Outside of the masks,” he added when Tim opened his mouth to protest.

Tim thought about it, and nodded. “You’re right.”

“That mean you’re gonna take the night off?”

A siren cut through the air, and Tim’s muscles instinctively tensed, ready to fly.

Jason sighed. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Tim promised, standing up and pulling out his grapple. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to take Jason home and lay on the couch, watch a movie and order Chinese food and fuck on the kitchen table.

He wanted to rest.

He was so tired.

“Tomorrow,” Tim repeated with one last look at Jason, before leaping into the night.

Tomorrow, he said to himself, every night.