(no subject)

[holli]

Tim knows this is a terrible idea. He shouldn't even have let her in, although in that case he'd have run the risk of Steph jimmying the lock from the outside and coming in anyway, and then she'd have been mad at him for *that* on top of everything else. So he doesn't *really* regret opening the window. He should, but he doesn't.

He should also regret not making Steph leave as soon as possible, and he kissing her back, and letting her push him back towards to door and fumbling it locked. But he doesn't. Even though he knows he should.

He should be talking to her, be letting her say all the things he knows she wants to say, letting her call him names for leaving, call him a coward or a quitter or whatever else he deserves. He should be patiently explaining why he did it, why he doesn't regret it at all, why his dad was right and why he had to give up being Robin. He isn't, though he knows he should be.

Instead, he's kissing Steph, letting her lick at the inside of his mouth and catching her lower lip between his teeth. She smells like sweat and Kevlar, like smoke, and he thinks there must have been a fire tonight, somewhere in the city. She tastes like the soda they get on patrol, and her gloves feel strange against the bare back of his neck. He feels off-balance, feels the absence of the mask that should be on his face and the gauntlets that should be on his hands and the gritty rooftop gravel that should be under his feet. But even with everything that should be there and isn't, Steph feels more familiar than anything has in weeks.

Even though he knows she shouldn't.

***

It's become habit now to knock on Tim's door as he passes, let him know that dinner'll be on the table by the time the vening news is over. It's funny, Jack thinks, how little time that took-- before, he'd been almost resigned to Tim being out of the house for one reason or another, and turning up at meals as the spirit moved him. He thinks he'd be glad for the change even if he didn't know the reasons for it.

This time, when Jack knocks there's a sharp thud an instant later, as though Tim had just knocked something over. Jack knows, now, that Tim is never clumsy unless he intends to be, so this gives him pause. "You okay in there, Tim?"

The slince is brief, but telling. When Tim says "Yeah, dad. I-- I'm fine," Jack knows that something is off. He tries the door, and finds it locked. But he hears the lock click back before he can say anything, and the door opens just far enough for him to see his son.

Tim looks-- well, disheveled, actually, and he's blushing, which is new. Also, his shirt is inside out, and he's-- oh. "Sorry, dad; I was-- um," says Tim, at the exact same moment as Jack says "Didn't mean to bother you, but-- dinner. You know," and backs away. Tim looks deeply grateful for a moment, and shuts the door again.

Despite the profound and horrifying embarrassment. Jack's a little relieved, to tell the truth.

***

Tim slumps back against the door, looking mortified. "Oh god." Steph has to muffle a laugh.

"He thinks you're-- oh, jeez, Tim," she says. "He's never gonna be able to look you in the eye again."

"He barely can *now*," Tim says, covering his face with his hands. "Actually, I think this might *help*. At least now he'll think I'm a normal teenage boy in *some* respects." Steph's shoulders are *shaking* with suppressed laughter, but Tim can't seem to glare too much. "Yeah, that's helpful."

She snorts, still giggling, and wipes at her eyes. "Oh, wow. Normality picks the *worst* moments to intrude."

Tim smiles a little at that, and... it's odd, but Steph thinks he looks more relaxed *now* than he had when she first arrived. Then, he'd been-- well, Tim is usually so controlled, but he'd been kissing like he was desperate for something. He's still not quite himself, but then, Steph has a feeling that the Robin she necks with on patrol is not exactly the same person as the Tim whose math homework is set out neatly on his desk.

"So do we have to worry about him coming back?"

Tim shakes his head, and blushes a little again. It's cute. "He's probably too embarrassed. And dinner's not for another half an hour, so he doesn't have any reason to come back until then."

Steph thinks about it for a minute. Really, she ought to go. There's still a good chance she could get caught here, and she's supposed to be on patrol. But she hasn't seen Tim in weeks, not since before Cass told her what had happened, and she *wants* to stay, for as long as she can. She thinks Tim wants her, too.

So she steps over the crumpled pile of her cloak and half her costume on the floor, and kisses Tim again. She slips her hands up under his t-shirt-- it's inside-out, she hadn't realized-- and traces the scars on his back, sketching out random loops and lines. Tim's got one hand in her hair and the other on her bare shoulder, and he's kissing along her jaw her, her neck, and Steph decides that she wants to leave Tim something to remember her by, until the next time she can see him. She tugs his shirt back up over his head, smiles at his questioning look, and leaves a deliberate hickey on his collarbone.

Comments

[petronelle.livejournal.com]

There must have been something in the air last night; I started a Tim/Steph, too.

I like Jack's dawning horror, here. He's so unaccustomed to having a normal kid he has no words, not even Ack.

Poor Tim, really. Especially in a couple of weeks.

[holli.livejournal.com]

Well, at least, in the meantime, he's gettin' some.

I might incorporate this into a "Five People Who Should have Knocked Some Sense Into Jack Drake," though that probably won't be the actual title. It's just that I kind of want to put him in a room with Bonnie King-Jones.

[petronelle.livejournal.com]

Oo. If Jack had gotten to go to the Parent Conference for Young Justice, instead of -- Nightwing.

Who, well, has zero parental rights over Tim in the best of circumstances.

Jack and Bonnie could have had lovely arguments, though it would have disrupted the catfight atmosphere.

[holli.livejournal.com]

I just. That period between Tim quitting and Jack dying? That would have been a *really good time* for man to get a talking-to. From MANY PEOPLE.