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“Hey, Timbo, I got a deal for you,” Jason blurted out one night while they were hanging out in one of Jason’s safehouses.
Tim looked up from his laptop that he was curled over, scanning over evidence for a case they were working on together. Their relationship wasn't perfect, especially since Tim hadn’t fully forgiven Jason - he was allowed to be afraid! The man had almost killed him, after all - but he was working towards it. They had been hanging out more after one of their cases on the edge of Crime Alley clashed. The two had gone to get chili dogs, Jason showing Tim one of his favorite vendors that was almost always open.
-
The Gotham smog was beautiful at times, and Tim always loved to go up to the highest building and just sit there, taking in the must and perpetual smell that seemed to permeate the whole city, no matter where you were. It was peaceful, and that feeling was only intensifying with the orange glow that casted warm light over the two vigilantes who had stayed out all night despite Bruce’s insistence they get rest.
“This is nice,” said Tim around his chili dog, catching some of the sauce before it dropped onto his yellow bandolier.
“ Didn’t know the replacement could feel things”
“Come on, Hood. I’m pretty sure you’ve seen me cry over a case before.” “
Hmm” Jason pretended like he was thinking, even going as far as putting his hand on his chin and looking off into the distance. “I don’t recall. Are you sure you’re thinking of me?”
“Who else has that stupid white streak in their hair?”
-
Tim saw the mischievous glint in Jason’s turquoise eyes, and narrowed his own in suspicion, not liking how he was looking at him. He observed that the bulky man had his phone in hand, occasionally looking down at it, and his smirk would only grow wider.
“This doesn’t have anything to do with the ad shooting tomorrow for WE, does it?” Tim questioned, his hands hovering over the touchpad of his laptop, one brow lifting in intrigue.
“Maybe. Why would you think it does?”
“Because you want to get back at Bruce for stopping you from killing that guy last week? Or, I don’t know, because both of you suck at admitting you care for each other, so you butt heads over every little thing?”
Jason’s expression twisted into something almost pained before it smoothed out again, his usual sarcastic and confident mask building again.
“No, you dipshit,” Jason scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully, though the minor amount of tension in his body told Tim a different story. “I just want to cause chaos, obviously. Who do you take me for? A crime lord?”
Tim gave Jason a deadpan expression, but the corner of his mouth ticked upward for a split second, showing off his amusement.
“Anyway, it does have to do with the ad, how’d you know?” Jason paused, pretending like he was giving Tim time to respond, but he barreled through. “I want you, Timothy Drake-Wayne, to make a fool of yourself-”
“Why would I do that?-”
“-for my entertainment. It’ll be fun, won't it?”
Tim tips his head back, hitting the couch, and sighs heavily. “Fine. What do I have to do and what do I get out of it?”
Jason’s grin grows and he sits up, dragging his legs off of the arm rest of the chair he was lounging in. If Tim didn't know any better, he would feel like prey.
-
The ad Tim and Bruce were going to film today was about how good they treat their employees. And Tim saw it as a waste of time, but Bruce insisted, so he had to go with it. Didn't mean he had to follow it to a T, though.
The lights in the studio were bright as Tim walked in, dressed in his well-pressed and most expensive suit, sunglasses pushed up and resting on the top of his head. There was a red tint to his nose and cheeks because he had foregone the sunscreen, thinking the sun wouldn’t be out - because it almost never is - and now he’s paying half the price, knowing there’s going to be pain later.
A makeup artist approached him and started working after waiting for him to sit down. Tim really just wanted to eat his chives and onion cream cheese bagel in peace, but alas, he’s a two-time nepo baby, and he has shit to do.
The girl makes quick work of putting a light layer of foundation over the reddened skin, brushing powder over it, and leaving him alone.
Just as Tim was about to bite into his bagel, Bruce clapped a hand on his shoulder. But Tim didn’t care. He was hungry, having skipped breakfast because he had been running late for a meeting.
“Tim, it’s good to see you,” Bruce greeted, his smile almost blinding compared to Tim’s annoyed glare.
Tim had taken a bite out of his food and was blankly staring at his pseudo father, conveying his discontentment with the shoot.
“I know you don’t want to do this, son, but I appreciate you doing this with me.”
“Yeah,” Tim lamely said after swallowing, a tiny bit surprised that Bruce had actually thanked him for something instead of grunting or nodding. Maybe therapy actually helps. Huh, Tim would have to check it out.
-
Tim’s heart was racing as he stood in front of the camera, just glad that they could re-do this whole thing so he didn't look like a total douche bag. He would get the footage later to give to Jason, but that was the least of his worries right now.
Bruce was standing next to him, looking all business with now sign of ‘Brucie Wayne’ nor Batman. It was almost comical how many masks the man had, but also kind of sad. Did Bruce really know who he was?
Tim didn’t have time to deep dive into that right now, the director’s voice cutting straight through those thoughts like butter.
“Ready? Starting in three, two, one,” the woman said, mouthing the last word so the mics didn’t pick it up.
The third Robin felt hyper aware of everything around him, especially the studio lights that were making his sweat and the nerves pooling low in his gut. But, he pasted on his best gala/business smile and waited for Bruce to say his lines.
“Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, where there’s better opportunities and better pay.” Bruce said, hands clasped casually in front of him, all tension visibly gone from his body. But Tim knew him better than that.
Tim interjected quickly, going totally off script, gathering all the confidence and sassy Timothy Drake-Wayne he could into it:
“Better bitches. Better money. My clothes are better. My shoes are better. I work harder! Fuck Lexcorp!”
With every sentence, his words got louder and he counted them on his fingers, smile dangerous and almost manic, like the smile he did when he was Red Robin, trying to intimidate criminals.
“Cut!-” Bruce had gone almost deathly pale, his jaw clenched, trying to keep both his embarrassment and frustrations at bay. This is what he gets for having a 17-year-old as co-owner. Tim was bound to act like his age, no matter how much Bruce forgot that, especially with the way the ex-robin acted so mature.
-
“Ha! Oh my god, Timberlina! This is priceless!” Jason howled, bent over and clutching his stomach at the clip that Tim had retrieved. Tears were in his eyes when he finally stopped, wiping them away with the back of his hand.
Tim rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, waiting for the rest of the family to get down to the Cave to see it.