Fic: One Night
Title: One Night
Characters: Tim Drake, Zachary Zatara
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, boy kisses
Word Count:
Author's Notes: Comment_fic that got too long. For Bek's prompt "Tim Drake/Zachary Zatara; future fic, Zat's on tour, Tim's lonely"
Zatara wants nothing more than a strong drink and some time alone after ten nights of straight shows. The only bar in Gotham that Zat trusts anymore is usually deserted this time of night, so he nearly falls over in shock when he sees someone familiar sitting at the bar.
"Timothy?" Zat practically squeaks, too shocked to be concerned by the high pitch of his voice.
Tim's head snaps up and he meets Zat's eyes for a second then drops his gaze back to his drink. Zatara frowns and takes a seat next to him.
"Tim," he repeats the name but softer this time.
Tim doesn't reply, just slouches his shoulders even further and runs his finger around the edge of the glass. Zatara's frown deepens.
Zat decides the best thing to do is give Tim time, even when they were friends Tim hadn't been eager to open up. And Zat hadn't seen Tim in years, so he doubted he'd have much luck getting Tim to talk to him.
He orders a drink and knocks it back quickly, feeling some of the night's tension seep out of him. He orders another drink but sips it slowly this time. Watching Tim out of the corner of his eye.
"I assume that you're here on tour," Tim asks and his voice is a little rough and Zat wonders if he's been using his vigilante voice too much.
"Surely you've already read it in the papers," Zat replies with a smile, trying to lighten to mood.
Tim finally looks up again and smiles a little sadly, "I don't have much time for reading the paper."
"And yet you have time to drink alone in a bar?" Zat questions and he realizes that its a little too harsh.
Tim winces, "Oracle made me go home, she threatened to short circuit my suit and electrocute me."
"Women," Zat scoffs.
Tim gives me an unreadable look and Zat squirms uncomfortably.
"Tim, threats from Oracle aside, why are you here?" Zat knows it's stupid to push but the fact that Tim's eyes are a little dull from alcohol makes him confident.
Tim downs the rest of his drink, "I'm drowning my sorrows in liquor, what else would I be doing?"
He says it with a wry smile, but it looks fake and they both know it.
"Tim-" Zat tries again only to be cut off.
"Don't Zachary, just don't, I don't need a lecture," Tim snaps.
"Hey, I wasn't planning to give you one," Zat defends himself.
"Then what were you going to say?" Tim asks but his tone isn't as harsh.
"I was going to say that this place is not only incredibly dull but also ridiculously overpriced," Zat tells Tim with a sly smirk.
"And?" Tim prompts.
"I have a tab at my hotel that's paid for by my tour manager," Zat informs him, "and I have the penthouse suite."
Tim watches him carefully for a moment, and Zat smiles at him gently. Tim sighs and pushes back away from the bar, jumping off the stool gracefully despite the obvious amount of alcohol he's consumed.
An hour later Zat and Tim are sitting on the leather couch in Zat's hotel room. A half empty bottle of scotch is on the coffee table between them.
Zat is watching Tim still, trying to work out the best method for attack to get Tim to open up and talk to him. But Tim is mostly silent, nursing a glass to his chest and biting his lip.
"Tim?" Zat says the name for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
"Yeah Z?" Tim replies and his words are a little slurred.
"What happened?" Zat says the words softly, like they're forbidden.
Tim frowns and Zat thinks that he's blown it, that Tim's going to shut down completely and walk out right now. But then Tim turns to face him, leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling his knees up to his chest.
"I hate it," Tim says in an almost whisper.
"Hate what?" Zat asks and he can't help leaning forward towards Tim.
"I hate the costume and the cowl and the patrols and I hate Damian and Dick and Babs and the goddamn Mission. I hate Bruce for dying, I hate this job and this, I hate this fucking city," Tim chokes on the last words and looks like he's about to burst into tears. But he's Tim, so he doesn't.
Zat doesn't know what to say, and he knows that Tim hates being touched but he reaches out anyway. Tim stiffens but lets Zat engulf him in an awkward hug due to Tim still clutching his knees to his chest. Tim presses his cheek to Zat's and sighs.
"I'm stuck, I can't be Robin or Red Robin and I can't be Tim Drake or Tim Wayne and I don't know where I belong anymore," Tim admits and Zat hugs him tighter.
"I'm sorry," Zat says.
Tim pushed him back to look at him, "For what?"
"For leaving when you needed me," Zat answers.
Tim frowns, and opens his mouth to speak but shuts it again and looks confused. Zat isn't sure what to say either so he pulls Tim into a hug again.
Tim is more responsive this time, he moves his curled up legs out of the way and leans into Zat, wrapping his arms around Zat's shoulders and pulling him close.
Zat's a little surprised but not entirely shocked when Tim kisses him. It's a timid kiss, quick and gentle and when Zat tries to look at Tim he won't meet his eyes.
So instead Zat gently holds Tim's jaw in his hand and pulls him forward. Zat kisses firmer, sucking on Tim's bottom lip a little and opening his mouth when Tim's tongue pushes at his lips. Tim leans over him, lowering Zat down onto his back and lying on top of him.
Zat wonders how badly Tim will regret this in the morning and if he should stop it before their friendship is ruined even more. But Zat can see how desperate Tim is for decent human affection.
So Zat lets Tim kiss him hungrily, he lets Tim's hands work under his shirt and then into his pants.
And he kisses Tim back and touches him back because even though he knows this won't make it better, it's the only way Zat knows how to help.
Characters: Tim Drake, Zachary Zatara
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst, boy kisses
Word Count:
Author's Notes: Comment_fic that got too long. For Bek's prompt "Tim Drake/Zachary Zatara; future fic, Zat's on tour, Tim's lonely"
Zatara wants nothing more than a strong drink and some time alone after ten nights of straight shows. The only bar in Gotham that Zat trusts anymore is usually deserted this time of night, so he nearly falls over in shock when he sees someone familiar sitting at the bar.
"Timothy?" Zat practically squeaks, too shocked to be concerned by the high pitch of his voice.
Tim's head snaps up and he meets Zat's eyes for a second then drops his gaze back to his drink. Zatara frowns and takes a seat next to him.
"Tim," he repeats the name but softer this time.
Tim doesn't reply, just slouches his shoulders even further and runs his finger around the edge of the glass. Zatara's frown deepens.
Zat decides the best thing to do is give Tim time, even when they were friends Tim hadn't been eager to open up. And Zat hadn't seen Tim in years, so he doubted he'd have much luck getting Tim to talk to him.
He orders a drink and knocks it back quickly, feeling some of the night's tension seep out of him. He orders another drink but sips it slowly this time. Watching Tim out of the corner of his eye.
"I assume that you're here on tour," Tim asks and his voice is a little rough and Zat wonders if he's been using his vigilante voice too much.
"Surely you've already read it in the papers," Zat replies with a smile, trying to lighten to mood.
Tim finally looks up again and smiles a little sadly, "I don't have much time for reading the paper."
"And yet you have time to drink alone in a bar?" Zat questions and he realizes that its a little too harsh.
Tim winces, "Oracle made me go home, she threatened to short circuit my suit and electrocute me."
"Women," Zat scoffs.
Tim gives me an unreadable look and Zat squirms uncomfortably.
"Tim, threats from Oracle aside, why are you here?" Zat knows it's stupid to push but the fact that Tim's eyes are a little dull from alcohol makes him confident.
Tim downs the rest of his drink, "I'm drowning my sorrows in liquor, what else would I be doing?"
He says it with a wry smile, but it looks fake and they both know it.
"Tim-" Zat tries again only to be cut off.
"Don't Zachary, just don't, I don't need a lecture," Tim snaps.
"Hey, I wasn't planning to give you one," Zat defends himself.
"Then what were you going to say?" Tim asks but his tone isn't as harsh.
"I was going to say that this place is not only incredibly dull but also ridiculously overpriced," Zat tells Tim with a sly smirk.
"And?" Tim prompts.
"I have a tab at my hotel that's paid for by my tour manager," Zat informs him, "and I have the penthouse suite."
Tim watches him carefully for a moment, and Zat smiles at him gently. Tim sighs and pushes back away from the bar, jumping off the stool gracefully despite the obvious amount of alcohol he's consumed.
An hour later Zat and Tim are sitting on the leather couch in Zat's hotel room. A half empty bottle of scotch is on the coffee table between them.
Zat is watching Tim still, trying to work out the best method for attack to get Tim to open up and talk to him. But Tim is mostly silent, nursing a glass to his chest and biting his lip.
"Tim?" Zat says the name for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
"Yeah Z?" Tim replies and his words are a little slurred.
"What happened?" Zat says the words softly, like they're forbidden.
Tim frowns and Zat thinks that he's blown it, that Tim's going to shut down completely and walk out right now. But then Tim turns to face him, leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling his knees up to his chest.
"I hate it," Tim says in an almost whisper.
"Hate what?" Zat asks and he can't help leaning forward towards Tim.
"I hate the costume and the cowl and the patrols and I hate Damian and Dick and Babs and the goddamn Mission. I hate Bruce for dying, I hate this job and this, I hate this fucking city," Tim chokes on the last words and looks like he's about to burst into tears. But he's Tim, so he doesn't.
Zat doesn't know what to say, and he knows that Tim hates being touched but he reaches out anyway. Tim stiffens but lets Zat engulf him in an awkward hug due to Tim still clutching his knees to his chest. Tim presses his cheek to Zat's and sighs.
"I'm stuck, I can't be Robin or Red Robin and I can't be Tim Drake or Tim Wayne and I don't know where I belong anymore," Tim admits and Zat hugs him tighter.
"I'm sorry," Zat says.
Tim pushed him back to look at him, "For what?"
"For leaving when you needed me," Zat answers.
Tim frowns, and opens his mouth to speak but shuts it again and looks confused. Zat isn't sure what to say either so he pulls Tim into a hug again.
Tim is more responsive this time, he moves his curled up legs out of the way and leans into Zat, wrapping his arms around Zat's shoulders and pulling him close.
Zat's a little surprised but not entirely shocked when Tim kisses him. It's a timid kiss, quick and gentle and when Zat tries to look at Tim he won't meet his eyes.
So instead Zat gently holds Tim's jaw in his hand and pulls him forward. Zat kisses firmer, sucking on Tim's bottom lip a little and opening his mouth when Tim's tongue pushes at his lips. Tim leans over him, lowering Zat down onto his back and lying on top of him.
Zat wonders how badly Tim will regret this in the morning and if he should stop it before their friendship is ruined even more. But Zat can see how desperate Tim is for decent human affection.
So Zat lets Tim kiss him hungrily, he lets Tim's hands work under his shirt and then into his pants.
And he kisses Tim back and touches him back because even though he knows this won't make it better, it's the only way Zat knows how to help.