The Way I Was Made - Part III of III (SR/SV/TT) Adult
Part I
Part II
Clark moved out of Riverside Drive eight days before Jason's twelfth birthday as a birthday present to Jason. At least that's what Jason told himself it was at the time; he'd asked for it specifically.
He'd sent the e-mail to Lex and everything. Well, he'd thought about sending it, but the draft remained in his e-mail until it vanished one day. Jason assumed it'd just deleted itself.
Regardless, he had embraced the boxes and the tattered suitcase, ignoring the way his father looked as though he'd forgotten how to sleep or eat. He told himself that once Clark was gone his dad would be happier, better, less depressed, that he would stop looking so sad and betrayed.
He was wrong. That took a lot longer.
*
He's somewhere over Ohio when all the pieces finally come together.
Jason's not really big on explanations or justifications, because they just give people room to lie or mislead or point out that, hey, Jason has three dads, one dead mom, and a grandmother who makes the best cookies ever. Those are details, but they're not who Jason is. Of course, Jason doesn't quite know who he is either, but after seven months at Gotham University he's starting to find out. He’d thought it was heartburn from the lamb vindaloo he’d gotten from Geeta, but it makes sense now.
Supervillians and heroes apparently stick together because the difference between them is all a matter of perception. Everyone's going a different way to see the same thing. It’s in all the Warrior Angel comics Jason’s ever read. It certainly explains why no one's ever pinged him for all the flying and the do-gooding. Huh.
How did Jason not see this before? Robin works for Batman, Nightwing works with Batman too. If Bruce Wayne is Batman then Dick and Tim, well -- and Clark must know Batman, which means -- oh.
So, Tim doesn't like him at all.
And neither does Robin.
It's just a way to keep an eye on him.
Well -- well, shit.
Most people would knock before entering someone else's dorm room, but since Jason's coming through the window and not the front door, he doesn't really think it matters at this point.
Deceptive façades are for parents, and if Tim doesn't want visitors then he should keep his windows closed.
Jason had wondered how Tim had gotten the single room -- boy, does this explain a lot.
He perches on the windowsill, not really on it as much as hovering over it. Tim's at his desk, his head is bent over what Jason assumes is homework, but who knows with him. The nape of his neck is long and pale, and Jason wants to touch it, except he doesn't even know anything about this person, he just knows what he's been presented with.
It takes Tim eight whole seconds to realize he's there. Well, seven seconds and thirty-two microseconds, and when he whirls around he's holding something that Jason very much assumes is a stun gun.
In the time it takes Jason to blink, the device disappears and Tim's up, his chair clattering to the floor. "Jason, what the -- why are you -- Jesus Christ, we're on the fourth floor!"
Tim's across the room, presumably to yank Jason inside, but Jason holds out a hand and hops into the room on his own. Tim brushes past him, glancing out the window. "Did you climb up here?" he asks, blue eyes wide. "How did you--"
Jason can smell his shampoo and soap and something else. Leather. Spandex? Can you smell spandex? He finds himself nuzzling the side of Tim's neck curiously. It's not a sexual thing, it's all science.
Jason is not stupid. He just acts like it sometimes.
Tim's expression is all puzzlement and something that might be distraction. He makes this muted sigh when Jason breathes against the soft skin behind his ear. "Jason, seriously," he says, breaking away to close the window. "Did you climb up? Are you crazy? You could've killed yourself! What the hell are you doing? I thought after making out you were going to stop with the stunts."
Jason's grin is less amusement and more predatory. "Well, you see what happens when you leave someone with blue balls. That's not nice, but I suppose bats don't play nice. Hey, at least now you can stop pretending that you don't know about my abilities, right?"
Tim's still for a fraction of a second that no one else except Clark would catch. When he turns around his face is calm -- entirely too calm. "Where were you? We had a tutoring session, the least you could've done was call--"
"Yeah, I would've, but I had to go see a man about a bat."
Jason displays his teeth; Tim watches. Clearly this is all that Jason's going to get. "Did you hit your head?"
Jason moves away from the window and sprawls out on Tim's bed. Tim's the only college student he knows who makes his bed every day. "Well, it’s like this, I have a crush on this guy. Really hot. Likes to wear leather fingerless gloves. Goes around with his underwear on outside his clothing, it’s a little kinky, but I can hang in there. Or I could've hung in there, but then I found out he was lying to me, and I'm not really big on liars."
Tim leans against the wall next to the window in a passable facsimile of amusement. It's only the tightness around his eyes that gives him away. Tim never grew up with Richard White -- Jason knows this look. "So, you're into spandex now? I guess I didn't get that memo."
"That's okay," Jason smirks, "I had my dad make copies. I'm sure I can get you one."
Jason's hearing is fine tuning itself, and he can actually hear Tim's heart beat increase fractionally. "Your dad?"
"I told you I had to go see a man about a bat," Jason explains slowly. "Which part of that isn't in English?"
Tim pushes away from the wall and rubs his face with his hands. "Okay, you've lost me. We're clearly not on the same page since you keep talking about bats and memos."
Jason stands up, directly blocking Tim's path back to his desk and the stun gun Jason's not supposed to have seen. "How about we discuss the memo that we both got -- you know the one where you're Robin, and you've been watching me for the last few months for Batman -- or god forbid, Superman. And all the while I've been banging my head against the wall thinking you might actually like me for me."
The entire time Jason's talking his voice is detached and flat; it's the voice he always yearns for when he's talking to Clark while he's wearing his Superman outfit. Except with Clark he tends to come out sarcastic and sullen.
"Jason, what the hell are you talking about?" Tim looks fairly distressed at Jason's words, "Are you on something?"
Jason's had enough. "You and I both know that Kryptonians, or half-Kryptonians as the case may be, can't get drunk, or stoned, or anything worthwhile. Feel free to stop bullshitting me any day now. Clark's always telling me how smart 'The Bats' are after all."
Tim blinks.
Jason doesn't even realize he's levitating until his head hits the ceiling. The rooms in Powell Hall are a little claustrophobic.
"Jason--"
"Just fucking save it, Tim," Jason spits. "Or do you prefer Robin?"
Tim sighs and rubs his temples. "I don’t prefer -- I mean --"
For the first time Jason can remember, Tim's at a loss for words.
"You could've just told me," Jason snaps. "You can't possibly think I wouldn't understand. I'm a fucking experiment! I have three dads! You could've just said you were supposed to keep an eye on me, you didn't have to -- to --" Jason doesn't even know what to say. He's tired and he's disappointed. He hurts.
Everything hurts.
He wonders if this is how his dad felt after he found out about Clark being Superman.
"You know -- I really liked you," he says quietly.
"Jason, it's not--" Tim's at his feet, craning his neck to meet Jason's eyes, but Jason doesn't want to hear it.
"Whatever," and just like that he's gone, crashing through Tim's window, bits of glass tickling his facing as he escapes into the Gotham night.
He can hear Tim calling for him. For Kon. For both of them who are just the same messed up college freshman.
*
When Jason was fourteen Clark gave him a tiny lead box that was apparently made from the armor of St George. He said it was a family heirloom. Jason put the box away and forgot about it until a few months after his sixteenth birthday.
*
Jason hasn't flown home to see his dad in weeks. He wasn't planning on doing it tonight, either, but he's drained. He just wants to feel safe and loved for a little while. Gotham is like a parasite, and he just wants to be with someone who won't lie to him.
The lights are on on the dock, and Jason's pretty surprised to see his dad standing outside on the porch holding a mug. He's wearing his favorite Sharks sweatshirt and jeans, and if Jason didn't know better he'd say his father was expecting someone, but that's just crazy talk.
Jason doesn't land as much as he crashes right into him. "Whoa -- hey -- what are you doing here?" his dad says, spilling coffee everywhere as Jason hugs him.
Richard White has aged over the years. Where Clark and Lex don't seem to change, Jason's dad is definitely getting older. His brown hair is shot through with grey and he wears glasses regularly now. Jason hugs him again and then steps back. "A guy can't come and visit his old man every now and then without expecting the Spanish Inquisition?"
His dad's smile helps a lot of the tightness in Jason's chest. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," his dad says solemnly.
Jason's answering smile only hurts a little bit.
His dad eyes him curiously. "You okay, son?"
Jason shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm okay."
His dad doesn't look like he believes him, but he doesn't pry, and Jason thinks of that Robert Frost quote his English teacher likes about home being the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in.
Jason's shoulders droop as his dad slings an arm across his shoulders and turns him towards the house. "I feel compelled to tell you that I'm here if you want to talk about it, but since we're men you probably won't, and then we can just eat the pie your Grandma Martha sent me instead."
Jason looks up at the man who raised him, who loves him regardless of biology, and he feels better. So much better. It doesn't matter how he was made, what matters is who he is. "Is there ice cream to go with this pie?"
"That depends -- are you spending the weekend so I can actually see you, or is this just a pit stop?"
Jason didn’t even realize it was Friday night. "I'm staying. On Monday you may not even be able to get rid of me."
His dad ruffles Jason's hair. "I'm never getting rid of you if I can help it."
*
Jason had friends in high school. Not close friends, not really good friends, but people that he liked hanging out with. People who liked hanging around him, and who would cover for him with his dad if he was clubbing in the city, because he was good-looking and semi-popular, and because he used his abilities without actually making them obvious.
Jason always tried to appear to be like everyone else.
Except he wasn't. And he was never going to be. And every time he saw a photo of Superman in someone's locker, he was reminded of that.
*
On Monday morning, Jason arrives back on campus ten minutes before his Chem lab. He expected to get back to Gotham sooner, but his dad loaded him up with so much food over the weekend that he was a little heavier on the way back. Thankfully, Luke's already left for his Japanese class, so Jason can just zoom through his shower and getting dressed.
There are papers on Jason's bed with Luke's scrawl and his name is all over their message board along with notes and a reminder that he's supposed to have lunch with Luke and Geeta at one.
He's got three minutes to get across campus, because they're playing with polypeptides today, but when he pauses at his desk he sees all the post-its Luke's left.
Tim called. Tim stopped by. Tim called again. Tim called. Tim stopped by.
Tim is a STALKER!!!! OMG, CALL HIM!!1!!11
Whatever.
Jason resolutely spent the entire weekend not thinking about Tim. Except for when he was thinking about Tim. Or when he was reading the newspaper and saw mentions of Wayne Enterprises buying itself another subsidiary. Or when they watched Office Space and there was all that talk of memos.
Jason couldn't even jerk off in peace in the shower without images of Tim in the library, writhing on his lap, or images of Robin on his knees and smirking up at him ruining everything.
The most disturbing bit was telling his dad about Geeta and Luke during a game of chess and suffering from blow job flashbacks. Jason got so distracted he snapped the head right off the bishop.
That's all over and done with though.
Monday's a new day, and Jason doesn't think of Tim at all during his lab, but he does start thinking of his dad. Which leads to thinking of his other dads, and their fucked up relationships, and whether or not Clark asked Batman to ask Robin to watch him, which is how Jason finds himself back in Metropolis.
In twenty minutes Jason is supposed to meet Geeta and Luke for lunch. If he makes this conversation fast, he can be back in nineteen.
Only an idiot would show up unannounced in the Daily Planet newsroom and give his dad a heart attack, so Jason does what any smart person would do -- he lands on the roof and announces he’s arrived.
Jason’s never done this before, but he thinks hollering, "DAD!" at the top of his lungs should get the desired effect.
He’s still getting out the second ‘d’ when the door to the roof flies open and slams against the wall hard enough to send a small tremor through the bricks underneath Jason’s feet.
Clark’s eyes are huge, and he looks as though his heart is going to jump out of his chest. There’s ink all over his hand from the remnants of a pen, and Jason’s mouth falls open slightly when Clark stops right in front of him. Jason can actually hear Clark’s heart beat speed up two whole beats. "What’s wrong?" Clark looks frenetic. "Is it your dad, I just left him downstairs -" he speeds away and is back before Jason can even say anything
Jason holds up his hands to stop Clark from barreling into him. "Whoa, wait, slow down, dad’s okay. I wanted to speak to you."
"Yeah, but you said--" Clark’s four feet away and a little slow on the uptake.
"You're my dad too, right?" Jason mocks. "If I wanted one of the others I’d go to them."
Clark blinks behind his specs. "Oh. Okay, it’s just that you’ve never--"
"Never forgiven you for being who you are."
Clark looks extremely startled and Jason can’t blame him. He doesn't think that’s what he was going to say either. "Jason."
"Why did you lie to my dad?"
"Jason, it wasn’t -- I didn’t -- that was a long time ago."
Jason crosses his arms over his chest. "Tell me anyway."
"It’s complicated."
"I have three fathers and a dead mother, tell me." Jason knows by the crestfallen look on Clark’s face that that's a low blow, but he doesn’t care. "I deserve to know."
"I loved your mother," Clark says. "I want you to know that. I needed to leave her, I had to know who I was, who we are, and where we come from -- but I never would’ve done that if I’d known she was pregnant with you."
"I know that," and Jason does. Somewhere deep down. After all, only someone with a seriously fucked up set of priorities would do all the things that Clark’s done. You would have to believe you were right to justify all the craziness. "But my dad -- he loved you, and you just, you lied to him. And okay, it’s my fault too because I knew who you were and I didn’t tell him, but --" Jason's arms fall at his sides.
"That’s not your fault," Clark’s tone is fierce, and then Clark’s right there in Jason’s face, gripping Jason's biceps, and he looks like he’s in pain even though Jason knows there’s really only one thing that can hurt Clark. "I never should’ve -- I never meant to lie to your father. I cared for Richard -- I still do; it's not something I did to hurt him. You have to understand that."
Clark lets go of Jason and steps back again. He looks really distressed. "I should’ve told him from the start, but I was afraid that if he knew he wouldn’t let me see you, and then, as time passed, I was afraid he'd be upset because I hadn't told him before."
Jason doesn't want to act like he understands any of it, but it makes sense. Really fucked up sense, but sense nevertheless. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Clark ends softly.
"I treat you like crap!" Jason protests.
"That doesn’t mean you’re not my son," Clark’s tone is calm and even. "Besides, everyone knows that teenagers suck."
Jason scowls. "We don’t suck, we’re just hormonally unbalanced and psychologically disturbed."
Clark gives him a small smile. "It’s good to know you’re learning something in Gotham."
Jason raises an eyebrow and something flashes across Clark’s face. It’s a lot like recognition. "I’m learning a lot in Gotham, you can ask my dad."
"I have," Clark confesses. "I do, all the time."
"I meant my other dad." Jason’s grin is all teeth; he can feel it. It's just like Lex's smile.
Jason didn’t know it was possible for Clark to go that pale. "You’ve -- Lex?" It’s Clark’s turn to cross his arms, and Jason feels like he’s having déjà vu. "Luthor is a bad influence, stay away from him."
"He’s saved my life," Jason says pointedly, "and you used to love him, so he can’t be all bad."
"Yes, well, wait -- love? Did he tell you that?!" Clark sputters. "It’s not true! Okay, it may be true, but it was a long time ago. Way before you were born and -"
Jason’s laugh rings out into the blue Metropolis sky, and he slides his hands in the pockets of his jeans. It’s not as though he wants Clark to be with his dad, he’s just not sure how he feels about Clark being with Lex either, still. "You’re really difficult, you know," he says thoughtfully. "Remind me not to be Superman when I grow up."
Clark sighs and uncrosses his arms to rub the back of his neck. "I didn’t want to be Superman when I grew up either. The hours suck."
"Yeah, and then there's the whole asking your friends to watch over your kid thing," Jason baits.
Clark just looks confused. "Um, what?"
"Didn't you ask Batman to have Robin spy on me?"
"Did I ask who to do what?!" Clark's eyes are huge and Jason just dodges a spray of heat vision.
"Clark, I don't think setting me on fire is the answer," Jason says dryly.
"Is Bruce, err, Batman bothering you? I'll kill him!" Clark's already floating about a foot in the air, and it's weird to see Superman levitating in a business suit.
Jason waves his hands as though trying to signal a wayward plane. "What? No! No, I was just, you know, checking. I met Robin the other night is all."
And just like that Clark's back on the roof. "Oh, okay, that's fine then. Robin's a good kid. I like him."
Jason nods his head. "Okay. Cool. Great. Um, I'd love to stay and chat but I'm kind of late for lunch."
Clark nods his head and waves him off. "Go, spend time with your friends, be good to them. You never know when you'll need them or when you could've made a difference in their lives."
Jason rolls his eyes. "Yes, Superman."
"That's Superdad to you," Clark calls after him.
*
Jason died on a Monday afternoon in the spring. He's pretty sure it was his own fault. He'd been testing himself, his hearing, his flying, trying to see how far he could push himself before everything gave out. He wanted to see how long he could expose himself to the refined Kryptonite that he'd spent eight weekends in Smallville looking for. He was just so tired of not knowing who he was, or who he would be, or why he had all these people who claimed to love him but he still felt alone and different.
He didn't want his dad telling him to be patient, and Clark telling him to just let it happen. He didn't want platitudes. He didn't want to wait anymore. He was tired of being the outsider.
He wanted to be able to turn back time like Superman. He wanted his mom. He wanted to walk through the doors of Greater Riverside High and not feel like sleeping with half the cheerleading team was the greatest thing he would ever do.
And so he left, and he flew, and then he flew some more, because if he flew hard enough and fast enough he could get away.
And if that didn't work then maybe a little green powder would.
Somewhere over Nauru, a tiny island in the South Pacific, everything gave out.
Jason doesn't remember much about being dead, just that he was flying and getting more and more tired, more jittery. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think.
For the first time he could understand what exhaustion felt like, what it was like to just give up, give in. If peace hurt, then this was it. He was finally burning himself out, and then he wasn't flying anymore and everything went black.
Black.
Black.
Black.
When he woke up, his back hurt, and his eyes hurt - everything hurt everywhere. There were these horrible fluorescent lights that made him squint, and then his dad was standing over him blocking out the light. Actually all of his dads were there. Lex and Clark, and his dad dad, the one who'd raised him, and flown him around his bedroom in his pajamas, even though Jason's mom was gone and genetics hadn't compelled him to.
They all looked tired, and they all looked relieved, and all three had Jason's blue eyes, and Jason felt something akin to thankfulness to be alive. Again.
Maybe it would be better this time around.
*
All weekend long Jason's built up his Tim immunity. It lasts until he gets back to his dorm after lunch and finds Tim sitting on his bed looking a little bit less than pleased to see him. At least he is if the eye narrowing is anything to go by.
Jason raises an eyebrow and tests the knob on the door. "Breaking and entering, huh?"
Tim doesn't even blink. "You broke the top pane of my window; I think we're pretty much even."
Jason snorts. "Let me think for a minute, you ignore me for weeks, hit on me when you're in costume, leave me in the library with blue balls, suck me off on a roof, and never bother to tell me that you knew everything about me before we even met!" Jason's voice is escalating, and out the corner of his eye he sees Stephanie from down the hall stop at the entrance of the girl's bathroom and look over at him.
"It's all a misunderstanding," he calls.
"You're a misunderstanding, Jason," she calls back.
"Everyone has to be something," he replies, winking, and then stepping inside his room and closing the door behind him.
The minute the knob clicks, Jason's façade falls away. "The door is here, the window is behind you. You can leave either way, I don't really care," he says, pointedly moving around Tim to get his Calculus book.
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me. Did you even listen to yourself on Friday?"
Jason starts humming to drown Tim out. He'll just pretend the song he's humming isn't Shakira's 'Hips Don't Lie.'
"I wasn't spying on you," Tim's words are sharp and clear. "We'd never even met until two months ago when you came to me for help! I'm sorry if you're upset I didn't tell you my whole life history upfront, but that's not how I operate."
"Whatever. For all I know, you planned the tutoring thing too." Jason's tone is all condescension as he picks up Luke's post-its about Tim and sets them on fire in the sink. If Luke were around he would pretend to use a lighter, but there aren't any secrets between he and Tim anymore, so he uses his heat vision.
He knows he's being irrational, unless the girl at the Tutoring Center was in it with Tim, and wow, way to have a conspiracy theory.
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Tim's incredulous tone grates. "What are you talking about? We'd never even met until you came for Calculus help. How could I make you fail Calc?! I practically went out of my way not to meet you, because I didn't want people bothering me about you."
Jason whirls around and eyeballs Tim. "So you do admit that you were spying for The Batman!" The thought pisses Jason off so badly he has to shut his eyes for a moment to keep from setting Tim on fire.
When he opens them, Tim's staring at him as though he's started levitating again, and Jason takes a quick glance downward just to make sure that's not the case. When he looks up, Tim has his hand in his pocket and then Jason's knocking him on his back and pinning his hands above him in the unmade sheets. "Jason, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm making sure you don't zap me with your stun gun."
"You are a freak." Tim's voice is almost affectionate. "A big, stupid, paranoid freak. I don't know why I like you so much."
"I'm not a freak," Jason lessens his hold on Tim slightly. "And I'm not paranoid. You're Robin, and you have toys, and I notice you didn't deny the whole thing about having a stun gun."
Tim sighs deeply. "It's a note from Dick asking for forgiveness on my behalf because I'm an idiot. Do you want it or not?"
"Yeah, right, I know Dick's probably in this with you."
"Wow, the paranoia runs deep with you." Tim's tone is all dry amusement. "Do you want me to introduce you to Bruce, is that it? Do you have a crush on him - should I be jealous? You seem pretty convinced he's got it in for you."
Jason can't cross his arms and scowl when he's pinning Tim to the bed, so he lets go for one teeny second, and then he's on his back and Tim's got him pinned firmly. Jason groans. "You totally could've escaped before, right?"
Tim shrugs but doesn't lessen his hold. "I thought if I let you think you were on top you'd calm down a bit, but you're just as crazy as you were on Friday."
Jason glares. "Be happy my dad's cooking is a sedative or I'd be dropping you from the top of LexCorp right now."
Tim shakes his head and sits back on his heels. "Okay, once and for all, Batman didn't send Robin to spy on you, and Bruce didn't send me to spy on you either."
"Right."
"Why do you think I resisted you for so long?"
"Because you're difficult."
"Try again."
"Because you like seeing me suffer."
"Yeah, tempting, but no. It's because I knew who you were, and I didn't want things to get complicated."
Jason pushes himself up on his elbows. "So instead you decided to hit on me when you were wearing a mask. Real smart there, killer."
Tim scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Look, Jason, Kon -- whatever you want me to call you -- I like you, regardless of who you are or what I'm wearing. I was trying to be professional before - you should try that."
"I am professional!"
"Yeah, the whole breaking my bedroom window was real professional."
"You gave me a blow job on the roof and then bailed!"
At this Tim's cheeks color slightly, and Kon feels better. Tim sighs. "I know who you are, Jason Conner Lane. I know all about your powers and your three dads. I know you can fly, and go around the campus at night protecting the students. I also know you've been pretending you have no idea what you're doing in Calculus just to be with me--"
"I didn't know what I was doing in Calculus!" Jason interrupts. "At least not for the first couple weeks."
The corner of Tim's mouth twitches and Jason narrows his eyes. "This isn't about me, this is about you, you lied to me!"
"How did I lie to you?" Tim counters. "I let you see more of me than anyone else, except for my family."
"But you didn't tell me who you are. You let me think-"
"That you were getting action from me and Robin. Wow, I mislead you into thinking you were hitting on me -- and me."
Jason makes a noise of displeasure, but doesn't actually say anything.
Tim rubs the back of his neck. "My name is Tim Drake. Dick Grayson is as close to a brother as I have. My father got involved with the wrong people and they killed him in front of me, and yes, Bruce Wayne is my guardian. Or he was until I turned 18. And I like cheese and Zesti. Any other questions?"
Jason relaxes noticeably. "No."
"I'm sorry your ego got a bit bruised, but I'm not your enemy." An image of Lex and Clark flashes through Jason's conscious and something aches in his chest. He doesn't want to end up fighting and being angry with Tim. He doesn't want to feel hurt and betrayed every time they see each other.
He wants - Tim seems seriously shocked when Jason sits straight up and kisses him. Jason wasn't quite expecting that himself, but he really doesn't want to end up like his fathers.
There's a moment of hesitation where Jason's not sure if Tim's going to kiss him back, and then Tim's hands are on his face and in his hair, and he's biting Jason again, his hands sliding under Jason's shirt and mapping his chest and ribs, learning Jason as Jason pulls their bodies together, slotting hips and legs and arms in the right place because Tim fits him.
When Jason pulls Tim down on the bed and touches him, he can feel Tim's heart beating and the heat from his body. Tim yanks on his shirt until Jason gets the hint to take it off, and then there are hands everywhere. Under Tim's shirt, under the waistband of Jason's jeans, and mixed in with all the touches are the kisses, which are hot and good and honest.
Later on, after they've taken their clothes off, and Jason's put the chair under the doorknob so Luke doesn't come home at the wrong time, things get better.
Who is he kidding, the fact that he finally has Tim Drake naked is one of Jason's best accomplishments all year, and Jason shows his appreciation with every trick in his book. Every caress, every stroke is about Jason's appreciation. He smiles as he sucks Tim off and revels in how tight Tim is around his fingers, even as Tim's moaning into his own hand.
Jason stops long enough to bat Tim's hand away, because he wants to hear this, and when Tim comes, choking off something that sounds a lot like his name, Jason knows they're going to be okay.
Probably not great, probably not super, but definitely okay.
-end-
This story would never have seen the light of posting without the support and harassment of ethrosdemon, who told me it didn't suck. Repeatedly. I would like to thank issaro for beta duty and for fixing the things I couldn't figure out, and oxoniensis for a) being so smart and b) being so enthusiastic and c) just being that cool.
Basic Factoids
* The role of Jason has been played by Kevin Zegers of Transamerica fame.
* Tim has been played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. If you question this, I point you towards Brick. Watch this movie. He is Tim Drake, twee, brilliant, sarcastic, Dark Knight-in-training You can thank me afterwards.
* Lex is being played by Michael Rosenbaum, because while this is mostly Superman Returns verse, I cannot think of sexy and think of Kevin Spacey.
* The Spanish Inquisition line is from Monty Python. For the three people who've never heard it before.
* Nauru: http://geography.about.com/library/cia/blcnauru.htm
* Aishwarya Rai: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0706787/
TWIWM Soundtrack:
Udit Narayan, Alga Yagnik, Sukwinder Singh 'Mitwa'; Kaiser Chiefs 'Saturday Night'; Joe Purdy 'Some Things Don’t Work Out'; Sia 'Rewrite'; Johnny Cash 'A Boy Named Sue'; David Mead 'Fighting For Your Life'; Gnarls Barkley 'Smiley Faces'; Kubb 'Remain'; Michael Frante & Spearhead 'I Know I'm Not Alone'; John Lennon 'Instant Karma'; Keane 'Is it Any Wonder?'; Tracy Bonham 'Mother Mother'; and the title track: Griffin House 'The Way I Was Made'
Part II
Clark moved out of Riverside Drive eight days before Jason's twelfth birthday as a birthday present to Jason. At least that's what Jason told himself it was at the time; he'd asked for it specifically.
He'd sent the e-mail to Lex and everything. Well, he'd thought about sending it, but the draft remained in his e-mail until it vanished one day. Jason assumed it'd just deleted itself.
Regardless, he had embraced the boxes and the tattered suitcase, ignoring the way his father looked as though he'd forgotten how to sleep or eat. He told himself that once Clark was gone his dad would be happier, better, less depressed, that he would stop looking so sad and betrayed.
He was wrong. That took a lot longer.
*
He's somewhere over Ohio when all the pieces finally come together.
Jason's not really big on explanations or justifications, because they just give people room to lie or mislead or point out that, hey, Jason has three dads, one dead mom, and a grandmother who makes the best cookies ever. Those are details, but they're not who Jason is. Of course, Jason doesn't quite know who he is either, but after seven months at Gotham University he's starting to find out. He’d thought it was heartburn from the lamb vindaloo he’d gotten from Geeta, but it makes sense now.
Supervillians and heroes apparently stick together because the difference between them is all a matter of perception. Everyone's going a different way to see the same thing. It’s in all the Warrior Angel comics Jason’s ever read. It certainly explains why no one's ever pinged him for all the flying and the do-gooding. Huh.
How did Jason not see this before? Robin works for Batman, Nightwing works with Batman too. If Bruce Wayne is Batman then Dick and Tim, well -- and Clark must know Batman, which means -- oh.
So, Tim doesn't like him at all.
And neither does Robin.
It's just a way to keep an eye on him.
Well -- well, shit.
Most people would knock before entering someone else's dorm room, but since Jason's coming through the window and not the front door, he doesn't really think it matters at this point.
Deceptive façades are for parents, and if Tim doesn't want visitors then he should keep his windows closed.
Jason had wondered how Tim had gotten the single room -- boy, does this explain a lot.
He perches on the windowsill, not really on it as much as hovering over it. Tim's at his desk, his head is bent over what Jason assumes is homework, but who knows with him. The nape of his neck is long and pale, and Jason wants to touch it, except he doesn't even know anything about this person, he just knows what he's been presented with.
It takes Tim eight whole seconds to realize he's there. Well, seven seconds and thirty-two microseconds, and when he whirls around he's holding something that Jason very much assumes is a stun gun.
In the time it takes Jason to blink, the device disappears and Tim's up, his chair clattering to the floor. "Jason, what the -- why are you -- Jesus Christ, we're on the fourth floor!"
Tim's across the room, presumably to yank Jason inside, but Jason holds out a hand and hops into the room on his own. Tim brushes past him, glancing out the window. "Did you climb up here?" he asks, blue eyes wide. "How did you--"
Jason can smell his shampoo and soap and something else. Leather. Spandex? Can you smell spandex? He finds himself nuzzling the side of Tim's neck curiously. It's not a sexual thing, it's all science.
Jason is not stupid. He just acts like it sometimes.
Tim's expression is all puzzlement and something that might be distraction. He makes this muted sigh when Jason breathes against the soft skin behind his ear. "Jason, seriously," he says, breaking away to close the window. "Did you climb up? Are you crazy? You could've killed yourself! What the hell are you doing? I thought after making out you were going to stop with the stunts."
Jason's grin is less amusement and more predatory. "Well, you see what happens when you leave someone with blue balls. That's not nice, but I suppose bats don't play nice. Hey, at least now you can stop pretending that you don't know about my abilities, right?"
Tim's still for a fraction of a second that no one else except Clark would catch. When he turns around his face is calm -- entirely too calm. "Where were you? We had a tutoring session, the least you could've done was call--"
"Yeah, I would've, but I had to go see a man about a bat."
Jason displays his teeth; Tim watches. Clearly this is all that Jason's going to get. "Did you hit your head?"
Jason moves away from the window and sprawls out on Tim's bed. Tim's the only college student he knows who makes his bed every day. "Well, it’s like this, I have a crush on this guy. Really hot. Likes to wear leather fingerless gloves. Goes around with his underwear on outside his clothing, it’s a little kinky, but I can hang in there. Or I could've hung in there, but then I found out he was lying to me, and I'm not really big on liars."
Tim leans against the wall next to the window in a passable facsimile of amusement. It's only the tightness around his eyes that gives him away. Tim never grew up with Richard White -- Jason knows this look. "So, you're into spandex now? I guess I didn't get that memo."
"That's okay," Jason smirks, "I had my dad make copies. I'm sure I can get you one."
Jason's hearing is fine tuning itself, and he can actually hear Tim's heart beat increase fractionally. "Your dad?"
"I told you I had to go see a man about a bat," Jason explains slowly. "Which part of that isn't in English?"
Tim pushes away from the wall and rubs his face with his hands. "Okay, you've lost me. We're clearly not on the same page since you keep talking about bats and memos."
Jason stands up, directly blocking Tim's path back to his desk and the stun gun Jason's not supposed to have seen. "How about we discuss the memo that we both got -- you know the one where you're Robin, and you've been watching me for the last few months for Batman -- or god forbid, Superman. And all the while I've been banging my head against the wall thinking you might actually like me for me."
The entire time Jason's talking his voice is detached and flat; it's the voice he always yearns for when he's talking to Clark while he's wearing his Superman outfit. Except with Clark he tends to come out sarcastic and sullen.
"Jason, what the hell are you talking about?" Tim looks fairly distressed at Jason's words, "Are you on something?"
Jason's had enough. "You and I both know that Kryptonians, or half-Kryptonians as the case may be, can't get drunk, or stoned, or anything worthwhile. Feel free to stop bullshitting me any day now. Clark's always telling me how smart 'The Bats' are after all."
Tim blinks.
Jason doesn't even realize he's levitating until his head hits the ceiling. The rooms in Powell Hall are a little claustrophobic.
"Jason--"
"Just fucking save it, Tim," Jason spits. "Or do you prefer Robin?"
Tim sighs and rubs his temples. "I don’t prefer -- I mean --"
For the first time Jason can remember, Tim's at a loss for words.
"You could've just told me," Jason snaps. "You can't possibly think I wouldn't understand. I'm a fucking experiment! I have three dads! You could've just said you were supposed to keep an eye on me, you didn't have to -- to --" Jason doesn't even know what to say. He's tired and he's disappointed. He hurts.
Everything hurts.
He wonders if this is how his dad felt after he found out about Clark being Superman.
"You know -- I really liked you," he says quietly.
"Jason, it's not--" Tim's at his feet, craning his neck to meet Jason's eyes, but Jason doesn't want to hear it.
"Whatever," and just like that he's gone, crashing through Tim's window, bits of glass tickling his facing as he escapes into the Gotham night.
He can hear Tim calling for him. For Kon. For both of them who are just the same messed up college freshman.
*
When Jason was fourteen Clark gave him a tiny lead box that was apparently made from the armor of St George. He said it was a family heirloom. Jason put the box away and forgot about it until a few months after his sixteenth birthday.
*
Jason hasn't flown home to see his dad in weeks. He wasn't planning on doing it tonight, either, but he's drained. He just wants to feel safe and loved for a little while. Gotham is like a parasite, and he just wants to be with someone who won't lie to him.
The lights are on on the dock, and Jason's pretty surprised to see his dad standing outside on the porch holding a mug. He's wearing his favorite Sharks sweatshirt and jeans, and if Jason didn't know better he'd say his father was expecting someone, but that's just crazy talk.
Jason doesn't land as much as he crashes right into him. "Whoa -- hey -- what are you doing here?" his dad says, spilling coffee everywhere as Jason hugs him.
Richard White has aged over the years. Where Clark and Lex don't seem to change, Jason's dad is definitely getting older. His brown hair is shot through with grey and he wears glasses regularly now. Jason hugs him again and then steps back. "A guy can't come and visit his old man every now and then without expecting the Spanish Inquisition?"
His dad's smile helps a lot of the tightness in Jason's chest. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," his dad says solemnly.
Jason's answering smile only hurts a little bit.
His dad eyes him curiously. "You okay, son?"
Jason shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm okay."
His dad doesn't look like he believes him, but he doesn't pry, and Jason thinks of that Robert Frost quote his English teacher likes about home being the place where, when you go there, they have to take you in.
Jason's shoulders droop as his dad slings an arm across his shoulders and turns him towards the house. "I feel compelled to tell you that I'm here if you want to talk about it, but since we're men you probably won't, and then we can just eat the pie your Grandma Martha sent me instead."
Jason looks up at the man who raised him, who loves him regardless of biology, and he feels better. So much better. It doesn't matter how he was made, what matters is who he is. "Is there ice cream to go with this pie?"
"That depends -- are you spending the weekend so I can actually see you, or is this just a pit stop?"
Jason didn’t even realize it was Friday night. "I'm staying. On Monday you may not even be able to get rid of me."
His dad ruffles Jason's hair. "I'm never getting rid of you if I can help it."
*
Jason had friends in high school. Not close friends, not really good friends, but people that he liked hanging out with. People who liked hanging around him, and who would cover for him with his dad if he was clubbing in the city, because he was good-looking and semi-popular, and because he used his abilities without actually making them obvious.
Jason always tried to appear to be like everyone else.
Except he wasn't. And he was never going to be. And every time he saw a photo of Superman in someone's locker, he was reminded of that.
*
On Monday morning, Jason arrives back on campus ten minutes before his Chem lab. He expected to get back to Gotham sooner, but his dad loaded him up with so much food over the weekend that he was a little heavier on the way back. Thankfully, Luke's already left for his Japanese class, so Jason can just zoom through his shower and getting dressed.
There are papers on Jason's bed with Luke's scrawl and his name is all over their message board along with notes and a reminder that he's supposed to have lunch with Luke and Geeta at one.
He's got three minutes to get across campus, because they're playing with polypeptides today, but when he pauses at his desk he sees all the post-its Luke's left.
Tim called. Tim stopped by. Tim called again. Tim called. Tim stopped by.
Tim is a STALKER!!!! OMG, CALL HIM!!1!!11
Whatever.
Jason resolutely spent the entire weekend not thinking about Tim. Except for when he was thinking about Tim. Or when he was reading the newspaper and saw mentions of Wayne Enterprises buying itself another subsidiary. Or when they watched Office Space and there was all that talk of memos.
Jason couldn't even jerk off in peace in the shower without images of Tim in the library, writhing on his lap, or images of Robin on his knees and smirking up at him ruining everything.
The most disturbing bit was telling his dad about Geeta and Luke during a game of chess and suffering from blow job flashbacks. Jason got so distracted he snapped the head right off the bishop.
That's all over and done with though.
Monday's a new day, and Jason doesn't think of Tim at all during his lab, but he does start thinking of his dad. Which leads to thinking of his other dads, and their fucked up relationships, and whether or not Clark asked Batman to ask Robin to watch him, which is how Jason finds himself back in Metropolis.
In twenty minutes Jason is supposed to meet Geeta and Luke for lunch. If he makes this conversation fast, he can be back in nineteen.
Only an idiot would show up unannounced in the Daily Planet newsroom and give his dad a heart attack, so Jason does what any smart person would do -- he lands on the roof and announces he’s arrived.
Jason’s never done this before, but he thinks hollering, "DAD!" at the top of his lungs should get the desired effect.
He’s still getting out the second ‘d’ when the door to the roof flies open and slams against the wall hard enough to send a small tremor through the bricks underneath Jason’s feet.
Clark’s eyes are huge, and he looks as though his heart is going to jump out of his chest. There’s ink all over his hand from the remnants of a pen, and Jason’s mouth falls open slightly when Clark stops right in front of him. Jason can actually hear Clark’s heart beat speed up two whole beats. "What’s wrong?" Clark looks frenetic. "Is it your dad, I just left him downstairs -" he speeds away and is back before Jason can even say anything
Jason holds up his hands to stop Clark from barreling into him. "Whoa, wait, slow down, dad’s okay. I wanted to speak to you."
"Yeah, but you said--" Clark’s four feet away and a little slow on the uptake.
"You're my dad too, right?" Jason mocks. "If I wanted one of the others I’d go to them."
Clark blinks behind his specs. "Oh. Okay, it’s just that you’ve never--"
"Never forgiven you for being who you are."
Clark looks extremely startled and Jason can’t blame him. He doesn't think that’s what he was going to say either. "Jason."
"Why did you lie to my dad?"
"Jason, it wasn’t -- I didn’t -- that was a long time ago."
Jason crosses his arms over his chest. "Tell me anyway."
"It’s complicated."
"I have three fathers and a dead mother, tell me." Jason knows by the crestfallen look on Clark’s face that that's a low blow, but he doesn’t care. "I deserve to know."
"I loved your mother," Clark says. "I want you to know that. I needed to leave her, I had to know who I was, who we are, and where we come from -- but I never would’ve done that if I’d known she was pregnant with you."
"I know that," and Jason does. Somewhere deep down. After all, only someone with a seriously fucked up set of priorities would do all the things that Clark’s done. You would have to believe you were right to justify all the craziness. "But my dad -- he loved you, and you just, you lied to him. And okay, it’s my fault too because I knew who you were and I didn’t tell him, but --" Jason's arms fall at his sides.
"That’s not your fault," Clark’s tone is fierce, and then Clark’s right there in Jason’s face, gripping Jason's biceps, and he looks like he’s in pain even though Jason knows there’s really only one thing that can hurt Clark. "I never should’ve -- I never meant to lie to your father. I cared for Richard -- I still do; it's not something I did to hurt him. You have to understand that."
Clark lets go of Jason and steps back again. He looks really distressed. "I should’ve told him from the start, but I was afraid that if he knew he wouldn’t let me see you, and then, as time passed, I was afraid he'd be upset because I hadn't told him before."
Jason doesn't want to act like he understands any of it, but it makes sense. Really fucked up sense, but sense nevertheless. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Clark ends softly.
"I treat you like crap!" Jason protests.
"That doesn’t mean you’re not my son," Clark’s tone is calm and even. "Besides, everyone knows that teenagers suck."
Jason scowls. "We don’t suck, we’re just hormonally unbalanced and psychologically disturbed."
Clark gives him a small smile. "It’s good to know you’re learning something in Gotham."
Jason raises an eyebrow and something flashes across Clark’s face. It’s a lot like recognition. "I’m learning a lot in Gotham, you can ask my dad."
"I have," Clark confesses. "I do, all the time."
"I meant my other dad." Jason’s grin is all teeth; he can feel it. It's just like Lex's smile.
Jason didn’t know it was possible for Clark to go that pale. "You’ve -- Lex?" It’s Clark’s turn to cross his arms, and Jason feels like he’s having déjà vu. "Luthor is a bad influence, stay away from him."
"He’s saved my life," Jason says pointedly, "and you used to love him, so he can’t be all bad."
"Yes, well, wait -- love? Did he tell you that?!" Clark sputters. "It’s not true! Okay, it may be true, but it was a long time ago. Way before you were born and -"
Jason’s laugh rings out into the blue Metropolis sky, and he slides his hands in the pockets of his jeans. It’s not as though he wants Clark to be with his dad, he’s just not sure how he feels about Clark being with Lex either, still. "You’re really difficult, you know," he says thoughtfully. "Remind me not to be Superman when I grow up."
Clark sighs and uncrosses his arms to rub the back of his neck. "I didn’t want to be Superman when I grew up either. The hours suck."
"Yeah, and then there's the whole asking your friends to watch over your kid thing," Jason baits.
Clark just looks confused. "Um, what?"
"Didn't you ask Batman to have Robin spy on me?"
"Did I ask who to do what?!" Clark's eyes are huge and Jason just dodges a spray of heat vision.
"Clark, I don't think setting me on fire is the answer," Jason says dryly.
"Is Bruce, err, Batman bothering you? I'll kill him!" Clark's already floating about a foot in the air, and it's weird to see Superman levitating in a business suit.
Jason waves his hands as though trying to signal a wayward plane. "What? No! No, I was just, you know, checking. I met Robin the other night is all."
And just like that Clark's back on the roof. "Oh, okay, that's fine then. Robin's a good kid. I like him."
Jason nods his head. "Okay. Cool. Great. Um, I'd love to stay and chat but I'm kind of late for lunch."
Clark nods his head and waves him off. "Go, spend time with your friends, be good to them. You never know when you'll need them or when you could've made a difference in their lives."
Jason rolls his eyes. "Yes, Superman."
"That's Superdad to you," Clark calls after him.
*
Jason died on a Monday afternoon in the spring. He's pretty sure it was his own fault. He'd been testing himself, his hearing, his flying, trying to see how far he could push himself before everything gave out. He wanted to see how long he could expose himself to the refined Kryptonite that he'd spent eight weekends in Smallville looking for. He was just so tired of not knowing who he was, or who he would be, or why he had all these people who claimed to love him but he still felt alone and different.
He didn't want his dad telling him to be patient, and Clark telling him to just let it happen. He didn't want platitudes. He didn't want to wait anymore. He was tired of being the outsider.
He wanted to be able to turn back time like Superman. He wanted his mom. He wanted to walk through the doors of Greater Riverside High and not feel like sleeping with half the cheerleading team was the greatest thing he would ever do.
And so he left, and he flew, and then he flew some more, because if he flew hard enough and fast enough he could get away.
And if that didn't work then maybe a little green powder would.
Somewhere over Nauru, a tiny island in the South Pacific, everything gave out.
Jason doesn't remember much about being dead, just that he was flying and getting more and more tired, more jittery. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think.
For the first time he could understand what exhaustion felt like, what it was like to just give up, give in. If peace hurt, then this was it. He was finally burning himself out, and then he wasn't flying anymore and everything went black.
Black.
Black.
Black.
When he woke up, his back hurt, and his eyes hurt - everything hurt everywhere. There were these horrible fluorescent lights that made him squint, and then his dad was standing over him blocking out the light. Actually all of his dads were there. Lex and Clark, and his dad dad, the one who'd raised him, and flown him around his bedroom in his pajamas, even though Jason's mom was gone and genetics hadn't compelled him to.
They all looked tired, and they all looked relieved, and all three had Jason's blue eyes, and Jason felt something akin to thankfulness to be alive. Again.
Maybe it would be better this time around.
*
All weekend long Jason's built up his Tim immunity. It lasts until he gets back to his dorm after lunch and finds Tim sitting on his bed looking a little bit less than pleased to see him. At least he is if the eye narrowing is anything to go by.
Jason raises an eyebrow and tests the knob on the door. "Breaking and entering, huh?"
Tim doesn't even blink. "You broke the top pane of my window; I think we're pretty much even."
Jason snorts. "Let me think for a minute, you ignore me for weeks, hit on me when you're in costume, leave me in the library with blue balls, suck me off on a roof, and never bother to tell me that you knew everything about me before we even met!" Jason's voice is escalating, and out the corner of his eye he sees Stephanie from down the hall stop at the entrance of the girl's bathroom and look over at him.
"It's all a misunderstanding," he calls.
"You're a misunderstanding, Jason," she calls back.
"Everyone has to be something," he replies, winking, and then stepping inside his room and closing the door behind him.
The minute the knob clicks, Jason's façade falls away. "The door is here, the window is behind you. You can leave either way, I don't really care," he says, pointedly moving around Tim to get his Calculus book.
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me. Did you even listen to yourself on Friday?"
Jason starts humming to drown Tim out. He'll just pretend the song he's humming isn't Shakira's 'Hips Don't Lie.'
"I wasn't spying on you," Tim's words are sharp and clear. "We'd never even met until two months ago when you came to me for help! I'm sorry if you're upset I didn't tell you my whole life history upfront, but that's not how I operate."
"Whatever. For all I know, you planned the tutoring thing too." Jason's tone is all condescension as he picks up Luke's post-its about Tim and sets them on fire in the sink. If Luke were around he would pretend to use a lighter, but there aren't any secrets between he and Tim anymore, so he uses his heat vision.
He knows he's being irrational, unless the girl at the Tutoring Center was in it with Tim, and wow, way to have a conspiracy theory.
"Are you even listening to yourself?" Tim's incredulous tone grates. "What are you talking about? We'd never even met until you came for Calculus help. How could I make you fail Calc?! I practically went out of my way not to meet you, because I didn't want people bothering me about you."
Jason whirls around and eyeballs Tim. "So you do admit that you were spying for The Batman!" The thought pisses Jason off so badly he has to shut his eyes for a moment to keep from setting Tim on fire.
When he opens them, Tim's staring at him as though he's started levitating again, and Jason takes a quick glance downward just to make sure that's not the case. When he looks up, Tim has his hand in his pocket and then Jason's knocking him on his back and pinning his hands above him in the unmade sheets. "Jason, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm making sure you don't zap me with your stun gun."
"You are a freak." Tim's voice is almost affectionate. "A big, stupid, paranoid freak. I don't know why I like you so much."
"I'm not a freak," Jason lessens his hold on Tim slightly. "And I'm not paranoid. You're Robin, and you have toys, and I notice you didn't deny the whole thing about having a stun gun."
Tim sighs deeply. "It's a note from Dick asking for forgiveness on my behalf because I'm an idiot. Do you want it or not?"
"Yeah, right, I know Dick's probably in this with you."
"Wow, the paranoia runs deep with you." Tim's tone is all dry amusement. "Do you want me to introduce you to Bruce, is that it? Do you have a crush on him - should I be jealous? You seem pretty convinced he's got it in for you."
Jason can't cross his arms and scowl when he's pinning Tim to the bed, so he lets go for one teeny second, and then he's on his back and Tim's got him pinned firmly. Jason groans. "You totally could've escaped before, right?"
Tim shrugs but doesn't lessen his hold. "I thought if I let you think you were on top you'd calm down a bit, but you're just as crazy as you were on Friday."
Jason glares. "Be happy my dad's cooking is a sedative or I'd be dropping you from the top of LexCorp right now."
Tim shakes his head and sits back on his heels. "Okay, once and for all, Batman didn't send Robin to spy on you, and Bruce didn't send me to spy on you either."
"Right."
"Why do you think I resisted you for so long?"
"Because you're difficult."
"Try again."
"Because you like seeing me suffer."
"Yeah, tempting, but no. It's because I knew who you were, and I didn't want things to get complicated."
Jason pushes himself up on his elbows. "So instead you decided to hit on me when you were wearing a mask. Real smart there, killer."
Tim scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Look, Jason, Kon -- whatever you want me to call you -- I like you, regardless of who you are or what I'm wearing. I was trying to be professional before - you should try that."
"I am professional!"
"Yeah, the whole breaking my bedroom window was real professional."
"You gave me a blow job on the roof and then bailed!"
At this Tim's cheeks color slightly, and Kon feels better. Tim sighs. "I know who you are, Jason Conner Lane. I know all about your powers and your three dads. I know you can fly, and go around the campus at night protecting the students. I also know you've been pretending you have no idea what you're doing in Calculus just to be with me--"
"I didn't know what I was doing in Calculus!" Jason interrupts. "At least not for the first couple weeks."
The corner of Tim's mouth twitches and Jason narrows his eyes. "This isn't about me, this is about you, you lied to me!"
"How did I lie to you?" Tim counters. "I let you see more of me than anyone else, except for my family."
"But you didn't tell me who you are. You let me think-"
"That you were getting action from me and Robin. Wow, I mislead you into thinking you were hitting on me -- and me."
Jason makes a noise of displeasure, but doesn't actually say anything.
Tim rubs the back of his neck. "My name is Tim Drake. Dick Grayson is as close to a brother as I have. My father got involved with the wrong people and they killed him in front of me, and yes, Bruce Wayne is my guardian. Or he was until I turned 18. And I like cheese and Zesti. Any other questions?"
Jason relaxes noticeably. "No."
"I'm sorry your ego got a bit bruised, but I'm not your enemy." An image of Lex and Clark flashes through Jason's conscious and something aches in his chest. He doesn't want to end up fighting and being angry with Tim. He doesn't want to feel hurt and betrayed every time they see each other.
He wants - Tim seems seriously shocked when Jason sits straight up and kisses him. Jason wasn't quite expecting that himself, but he really doesn't want to end up like his fathers.
There's a moment of hesitation where Jason's not sure if Tim's going to kiss him back, and then Tim's hands are on his face and in his hair, and he's biting Jason again, his hands sliding under Jason's shirt and mapping his chest and ribs, learning Jason as Jason pulls their bodies together, slotting hips and legs and arms in the right place because Tim fits him.
When Jason pulls Tim down on the bed and touches him, he can feel Tim's heart beating and the heat from his body. Tim yanks on his shirt until Jason gets the hint to take it off, and then there are hands everywhere. Under Tim's shirt, under the waistband of Jason's jeans, and mixed in with all the touches are the kisses, which are hot and good and honest.
Later on, after they've taken their clothes off, and Jason's put the chair under the doorknob so Luke doesn't come home at the wrong time, things get better.
Who is he kidding, the fact that he finally has Tim Drake naked is one of Jason's best accomplishments all year, and Jason shows his appreciation with every trick in his book. Every caress, every stroke is about Jason's appreciation. He smiles as he sucks Tim off and revels in how tight Tim is around his fingers, even as Tim's moaning into his own hand.
Jason stops long enough to bat Tim's hand away, because he wants to hear this, and when Tim comes, choking off something that sounds a lot like his name, Jason knows they're going to be okay.
Probably not great, probably not super, but definitely okay.
-end-
This story would never have seen the light of posting without the support and harassment of ethrosdemon, who told me it didn't suck. Repeatedly. I would like to thank issaro for beta duty and for fixing the things I couldn't figure out, and oxoniensis for a) being so smart and b) being so enthusiastic and c) just being that cool.
Basic Factoids
* The role of Jason has been played by Kevin Zegers of Transamerica fame.
* Tim has been played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. If you question this, I point you towards Brick. Watch this movie. He is Tim Drake, twee, brilliant, sarcastic, Dark Knight-in-training You can thank me afterwards.
* Lex is being played by Michael Rosenbaum, because while this is mostly Superman Returns verse, I cannot think of sexy and think of Kevin Spacey.
* The Spanish Inquisition line is from Monty Python. For the three people who've never heard it before.
* Nauru: http://geography.about.com/library/cia/blcnauru.htm
* Aishwarya Rai: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0706787/
TWIWM Soundtrack:
Udit Narayan, Alga Yagnik, Sukwinder Singh 'Mitwa'; Kaiser Chiefs 'Saturday Night'; Joe Purdy 'Some Things Don’t Work Out'; Sia 'Rewrite'; Johnny Cash 'A Boy Named Sue'; David Mead 'Fighting For Your Life'; Gnarls Barkley 'Smiley Faces'; Kubb 'Remain'; Michael Frante & Spearhead 'I Know I'm Not Alone'; John Lennon 'Instant Karma'; Keane 'Is it Any Wonder?'; Tracy Bonham 'Mother Mother'; and the title track: Griffin House 'The Way I Was Made'