---- From chapter 14 ----

J: I need your help
W: Ah, finally someone who appreciates the Wallster. What do you need, young grasshopper?
J: If I didn't need you, I would kill you
J: But, I need to know how you got Dickiebird when he's so far out of your league he's practically in a different universe
W: First of all, rude
W: second of all, just because I'm dating Dickie doesn't mean I know how I did it
W: But I think bringing him cereal thousands of times worked
J: Can I substitute coffee for cereal?
W: I guess?
J: Great, I knew bribery would be the way to go

----

T: Dickie
D: new chat, who dis
T: Dickie pls
T: I am in grave need of assistance
D: Normally I charge $50 but since I know what this is about, I'll make this one on the house. Go on, young grasshopper
T: How did you get it through Wally's thick fucking skull that you liked him
D: I hit him over the head a lot, and let him bring me cereal
D: Kissing him probably helped too but Idk
T: got it- violence and extortion. That's what I figured

"I'm in love with Jason," Tim admits quietly. He could have done so through text ten minutes ago, while he and Dickie were negotiating exactly how he was going to get with Jason, or any time after that, too. He still had the conversation open on his phone, but if he was being honest, that conversation hadn't made him feel better. He needed to say it out loud, and Dickie had already said he'd listen.

"So make out with him," is all Dickie says, typing away on his laptop and sitting criss-cross on the coffee table, his back to the lit fireplace.

"But I hate him!" Tim snaps, because he does hate Jason, and he's sick of everyone trying to tell him that his love cancels out his hate, even though he knows that's not what Dickie was trying to do.

Dickie suddenly looks very serious, speaking with a raspy voice, "A half cannot truly hate that which makes it whole."

Tim blinks, his frustration spinning into something else, not sure what he had been expecting, but knowing it wasn't that. "Did you just quote BBC's Merlin- season one; episode two; "Valiant," timestamp 30:54- at me? Didn't that show end in December 2012?"

Dickie looked up from his laptop then, his eyebrows drawn together, "Why do you- yanno' what? Never mind." Dickie closes the lid of his laptop and sets it aside, unfolding his legs and patting the impossible soft cushions across from him on the couch. Tim sits down and there's so little space between the couch and the coffee table that their knees touch.

When Tim is settled, Dickie starts, "I'd say I don't know what to tell you, but I know everything so." He shrugs. "Look, Timmy, I get it," he speaks over any protest Tim might have about how he does so not get it, "you love him but you hate him. The thing you gotta' understand is that emotions are funky things and no one really understands how they work," he pauses, then says, "Except for me, but I'm God so."

Tim can't help the small smile that curves his lips, and Dickie grins like that was his goal all along, even as he keeps talking, "You're never gonna love him 100% one moment and hate him 100% the next; they're always gonna' blur together. The point is, you have to decide not if you love him more or hate him more, but if your willing to put yourself through both."

"And I get it," he insists again, and Tim gets the feeling he's trying to make it seem like he's not so alone, "people like a happy ending, they like a Enemies to Lovers story, they want your love to outweigh your hate."

Tim looks away, a little bitter that Dickie could tell exactly what had been bothering him, but Dickie leans forward and braces himself with a hand on Tim's leg. He uses his free hand to tilt Tim's chin up, forcing Tim to look at him as he says, "But you have a right to your anger, Tim, and if it ends up that you're not willing to lock Jason out and let him back in again and again then," Dickie breaks the serious moment with a grin at exactly the right time, right before Tim starts to cry, "you have a right to kill him."

There's a silence between them for a minute that keeps stretching on and on, and then Tim breathes out everything all at once, Dickie's advice settling all the doubts that had been rising a ruckus in his mind.

"That was... really good advice. Mostly. Maybe except for the murder." He stops fidgeting for the first time in a while, relaxes against the couch as Dickie straightened back up.

"I know, right? I've been thinking of doubling my 'Advice Price' because I'm just so good at it."

Tim stands up, not really sure where he's gonna go but with a vague craving for coffee starting on the back of his tongue, and he's all the way to the threshold of the room before he thinks of one more thing to say.

"Dickie?" He waits until Dickie looks up from his computer again before he lets a smirk take over his expression, his whole body buzzing with what he's about to do. "Has anybody told you you've turned into the 'Big Brother Character' yet?"

Tim turns and runs before he gets the chance to see Dickie's expression, and then runs faster when he realizes he's being chased.

He never had a chance, but he put up a good fight. He made it all the way to the second-floor hallway before Dickie tackled him from behind.

"Hey, Dickie?" He starts again, breathing heavily with the weight of Dickie pinning him down and the exertion that comes from trying to evade one Dickie Grayson for as long as possible.

"Are you gonna call me the big brother character again?" Dickie asks, non-relenting in his pinning of Tim to the carpeted floor, "because we just established I am the Prince Charming type-"

"No," Tim laughs, interrupting, "I just- do you give that speech to all your wayward brothers?" He asks because he can't say Thank you- not yet.

"Nope, I wrote it especially for you, Tim-Tac-Toe. I spent all night on it too. Put my blood sweat and tears into that speech." Dickie manages to ruffle his hair while still keeping Tim trapped underneath him and it is entirely unfair.

He makes up for it, though, when he goes on, "However, I did give a copy of it to Wally to give to Jason 'cause I thought it'd be funny."

Tim tries to image Wally giving that speech, and the faces Jason would make as he's forced to listen to it, and Dickie's right; it is funny. Dickie's so busy laughing at his genius that Tim manages to get out from under him and take off down the hallway again, holding his ribs, sore from laughing.

He can't imagine things going this well for Wally and Jason, and that makes him laugh harder.

----

J: I need your help
W: Ah, finally someone who appreciates the Wallster. What do you need, young grasshopper?
J: If I didn't need you, I would kill you
J: But, I need to know how you got Dickiebird when he's so far out of your league he's practically in a different universe
W: First of all, rude
W: second of all, just because I'm dating Dickie doesn't mean I know how I did it
W: But I think bringing him cereal thousands of times worked
J: Can I substitute coffee for cereal?
W: I guess?
J: Great, I knew bribery would be the way to go

Jason has taken to re-reading he and Wally's conversation from that morning, hoping to glean more from it than he was from this face-to-face interaction. Wally was still vying for his attention though, apparently very dedicated to fulfilling Jason's request for advice. He had been regretting this for the last thirty minutes, and he didn't know it was possible for him to regret it more, but he did.

"Jay- no- wait- um-" Wally flips wildly through a handful of flashcards, says in a stiff 'I am reading but I don't know what I'm saying and I've never seen these words before' voice, "you have a right to kill him!" then realizes what he says and backtracks with, "NO- I MEAN-" More card flipping, "You have to be willing to lock him out! WHAT?!"

He stops, re-reads the card, then says, more to himself than Jason, "Man, what is this speech?"

Jason rolls his eyes with a huff, suddenly very aware of all the reasons this was a stupid idea, and he stands to leave. Maybe he can get some pointers from Roy, he had pretty good luck with the lads. Except for that time last yesterday when he accidentally slept with a 23-year-old and did cocaine.

Maybe he wouldn't talk to Roy.

Then again...

"Jay, wait-" Wally is still yelling, and he trips over the ottoman between him and Jason in his hurry to stop Jason from leaving. He drops his stupid flashcards as he falls, only the ottoman under him saving him from hitting his face off the floor, and the little white paper rectangles rain down on him like confetti.

Normally Jason would have laughed, especially because Wally made a dumb lost and confused expression as he struggled to comprehend what just happened to him, but he was here in a time of need damnit, and while he felt significantly better, his problem still remained.

A problem that he never expected to have in the first place. He was in love with one Timato Fucking Drake, whom he hated, which honestly wouldn't normally be an issue for Jason, considering both hate sex and locking his emotions away in a deep dark box behind a serious of mental walls were options.

The problem came from the fact that he was pretty sure that Timmy was in love with him too- or, rather, the other him. Robin. The hero. The guy who let him take candid photos of him and saved him from falling off buildings when he was too drunk to see straight.

All because Jason decided to be a little nicer than normal one night on a rooftop a few months ago. It was a perfect example of why he should just stick to his philosophy of being a dick to everyone all the time.

It might be the worst thing that's ever happened to him, and currently, Dickie's dumb boyfriend was being entirely unhelpful.

Maybe he should just push Tim off a roof the next time they train. Good idea, Jason. You're fucking brilliant.

Ah, except he couldn't, could he? No, not when Tim looked up at him with those stupid glassy eyes and stupid flushed cheeks every time Jason so much as brushed against him.

No, Jason was desperate, which is why he was still here, even after texting with Wally and deciding bribery was the clear path forward, his arms crossed and an impatience expression growing darker by the second the longer Wally stayed splayed out on the ottoman.

"Okay," Wally said, and all Jason saw between blinks was a Wally-coloured blur and then Wally was sitting with on the ottoman, cards in hand.

Wally peered at the card on the top of his pile, where only the words "(pause for dramatic effect) I'm God, so," were written. Jason watched as Wally peered down at them for a second that surely felt longer to the speedster, then threw the cards over his shoulder.

Jason raised an eyebrow as Walt deviated from the script.

"Alright, Jay, I'll be real with you," he looked around as if making sure they were alone before admitting anything, "I've been in love with Dick for the past, like, seven centuries, and it has been the worst thing ever."

Jason highly doubted that considering he knew that Dickie had been in love with Wally for about as long, but saying so would take the fun out of the moment and he figured Wally was trying to make a point.

"Every day that goes by when I'm not with him brings me closer to a day when someone else will be, and I have to make my peace with that." Wally gave him a very serious expression, standing up to put a hand on Jason's shoulder, but it was hard to take him seriously when all he could think about was what an idiot Wally was. Was he blind? Dickie wasn't exactly subtle. In fact, Dickie was the exact opposite of subtle; on Valentine's Day Dickie had spent the entire day showering Wally in chocolate and flowers. Jason had spent the entire day raining down insults on Tim, and then the entire night teaching him how to escape a number of pins with way more body contact than was technically required.

Wally was still talking, and Jason had to refocus, tuning back in just to monitor the progress of Wally's improvised pep-talk. "Tim is a really great kid, and if you don't get with him now, someday someone else is gonna notice too, and they're gonna swipe him right out from under you, and then you'll have to live with that."

Jason blinks, his arms falling to his sides, and his expression loses a little bit of its edge. Wally notices, and how dare he pick this moment to be observant?

"So, yes, Jay, I know you hate him as much as you love him, but what you have to decide is; do you want to have to live with that?"

Jason wonders how Tim would have reacted if it was him getting his speech instead of Jason, and then Jason turns on his heel and stalks his way to the nearest zetatube. He punches in the code for Star City, and very sternly resolves to let himself into Roy's apartment, drink the most expensive liquor Roy owns, and then make it back to Gotham with enough time- but not too much time- to sober up before patrol. If he pulls it off right, he should still have the buzz of oblivion in the back of his head when he has to face Tim again.

----

The hardest part, Tim decides, is looking at Robin and learning to see Jason.

Dickie's words ring in his head; they're always gonna' blur together. He had been talking about love and hate, but Dickie didn't know that it was more relevant to Robin and Jason. Jason and Robin. One in the same. The same coin under different lighting.

Tim holds his camera like a mask that hides half his face, hides the shadows under his eyes and only lets his sharp grin shine through, flashes of the sun in the middle of a storm until he is ready to lower it. He hides his stalling by taking a few photos of Robin, since he has the camera pointed at him anyway, and he hopes that in a few hours he'll be able to look at them without crying.

Tim lowers the camera, looks at Robin through his own ice-tinted eyes instead of the lens of the camera. Tim takes off his mask, and Robin, of course, does not extend him the same courtesy.

Tim takes a deep breath and the wind is blowing in a way that carries Robin's scent to him; the scent of alcohol and cigarettes that he has always associated with Jason.

Blur together alright, he thinks, the red in Robin's cheeks obvious to someone who has seen Jason tipsy as much as Tim has, even in the dark.

It makes him feel better.

"So, princess," Robin starts, once he's sure Tim is done taking photos, and they meet together in the middle of the roof to start stretching. "Do you want to work on Tae Kwon Do or Jujitsu tonight? Or something else?"

Jason isn't considerate like that, he never asks what Tim wants to do. But Jason does keep his cop tv shows at a low volume when Tim is trying to read next to him, and he always makes a new pot of coffee when he takes the last of it because he knows Tim's not really functional till he's downed at least three.

Tim's tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he breathes sharply when he feels Robin's warm, gloved hands on his thighs, helping him stretch. It's standard routine at this point, but it does more to raise his heartbeat than any warm-up routine every time.

"Boxing," he says. His shoulders feel tight and his arms are heavy and he knows he'll feel better if he can just take a swing at something.

Robin gives him a look. It's hidden by his mask, but Tim can tell anyway. "You hated boxing the last time we did it."

And it's just like Jason to remember all the things he hates, usually to torment him with them later.

"And..." Robin trails off, "and I hurt you."

Tim shudders at the memory. Robin hadn't gotten so much as a "lucky hit" in as Tim had wanted something to cling to after they parted, and if he couldn't have the taste of Robin's lips then copper would have to suffice.

Jason's eyes had dropped to Tim's broken, cracked bottom lip every time they'd been in a room together until it healed.

"Won't happen again," Tim promises because he doesn't like the downcast tone of Robin's voice, "now that I'm better than you an all."

"Oh?" Robin teases, "are you now?" He inches a little closer, his other hand coming to join the first on Tim's thighs, sliding up to the groove of his hips, and lingering for a moment before moving to push and pull at his shoulders.

"Yeah," Tim says, craning his neck to give Robin more room to work as pushing and pulling becomes massaging, "I watched at least two YouTube tutorials."

"Right," Robin agrees, "so now you're an expert."

"Obviously."

Robin's hands have stilled on his shoulders and Tim can feel the weight of his gaze on the line of Tim's throat. There's so much adrenaline in his bloodstream and his hearts beating so fast, he turns out of Robin's hold with a scrape of his sneakers on concrete and takes a half-assed swing right at Robin's head. His form was horrible- everyone at BoxLikeAPro.org would be so disappointed in him- and Robin blocked his arm easily, but it was all he could do to keep his knees from giving out under him.

"Easy there, tiger," Robin says, laughing, and Tim's whole body flushes with heat so fast it makes him light-headed.

It's easy after that, routine, and Tim is glowing by the time a patrol of police cars speeds down the street right below them, sirens blaring and every crevice filling with blue-red light.

Robin watches them get farther and farther away, his limbs tense the way they always are when they both know he has to go.

"You should probably get that," Tim says as if it's a phone call Robin had been planning to ignore. "Seems important."

Usually, when they get interrupted, Tim is bitter and guilty and it feels like he got caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, but tonight he's still thinking about "Easy there, tiger," and, "They're always gonna' blur together," and tonight it's easy to let Robin go.

Robin starts off towards the edge of the roof, his hand already sliding into his utility belt for his grapple hook, but then he pauses. He seems to think about something and quickly makes his decision because he turns on his heel and marches back to in front of Tim.

"Be careful getting home," Robin says, and then his hand is at the back of Tim's neck, and he's tilting his chin up and then he's pressing his lips softly against Tim's, and Tim doesn't even have a chance to deepen the kiss before Robin is pulling away.

He says, "Be safe," one more time, and then he's gone, and suddenly Tim understands very vividly that that can never happen again. Not like this.

His heart can't take it.

----

He goes back to Wayne Manor. It takes him an hour longer than usual because he'd paced back and forth on the rooftop for twenty minutes trying to get his heart rate back to normal.

When he does get home, though, he makes himself a pot of coffee and then takes the whole pot up to Jason's room where he lets himself in and wastes time reorganizing Jason's bookshelf .

It's two hours later- an hour after he ran out of coffee- two hours from sunrise, when he hears the door open behind him and suddenly his body is pressed against the bookshelf.

He slides the book he had in his hand into place as Jason all but growls in his ear, "What are you doing in my room?"

Tim opens his mouth to say the first thing that comes to mind that he thinks will piss off Jason, but Jason drags him away from the bookshelf and throws him against the wall instead, boxing him in. His hand fits over a fresh bruise on Tim's wrist, and Tim both recoiled away from the touch and surged towards it at the same time, looping his other hand around Jason's neck and pulling him closer.

He can't say I love you so he says, "Easy there, tiger," instead because Jason had kissed him earlier and he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Jason's hands find the groves of his waist again, and he pulls Tim flush against him and presses him harder to the wall. Jason is always rough with him, somehow tougher than when they were actually fighting full-contact on rooftops, and Tim wonders if Jason ever wants revenge for those bumps and bruises.

Tim knows he wants revenge for that stolen kiss.

And he gets his revenge. All he has to do is lift one leg around Jason's hip and suddenly his feet aren't even on the ground anymore. He dips his head down a little bit, just brushes there lips together. Jason honest to God growls and Tim lets a chuckle pass his lips.

He muffles it with Jason's, and when Jason surges up to deepen the kiss, he pulls back, teasingly, and says, "Easy there, tiger," one more time, just because he can.

"Shut up, princess," Jason says, pulling Tim closer.