Chapter Text
Jason lets himself into his apartment quietly, his shoulders sagging as he steps out of his sneakers and leaves them in disarray by the neat row at the door.
It doesn’t hit him that anything is off until he’s already poured himself a glass of water and taken a long sip from the cup, set it down and gripped the counter.
He’s staring into the glass when he feels the air just behind him shift. Before he can school his reaction, actually fucking think about who could get that close to him without him noticing, he’s whipping around, and his hand clamps down on a throat.
The first thing he processes is a set of ice blue eyes, a little wide. Then his gaze flickers to Tim’s hands, spread wide in the air, surrendering.
His hand flies back to the counter.
“Shit,” Jason breathes out shakily, running his other hand through his hair. Relief and guilt flood his chest as the adrenaline drains from his system.
“Sorry,” Tim says quietly, and god, does Jason hate that. The way he just fucking apologizes like he’s done something wrong when Jason’s the one who almost just snapped his neck.
“Don’t,” Jason says quietly as he turns back to the counter, grabs the glass and dumps it.
Tim doesn’t move.
Jason steps around him to put the glass in the sink. He eyes it for a second before turning on the water and rinsing it, even though it only had more water in it. Once he’s placed it in the dishwasher, he grabs the cleaning spray and spritzes the spotless counter a few times, then grabs the dish towel to wipe it down.
By the time he’s back from tossing it in the laundry bin, Tim still hasn’t moved.
He’s just standing there, watching Jason move around his apartment.
It’s fucking unsettling.
“What?” Jason asks, just on the edge of snapping.
Tim doesn’t flinch, of course. He’s fucking unflappable.
There’s no reason for Jason to be feeling especially set off by that today, of course.
Maybe he should cook something. That always helps him relax when he’s… like this.
As he moves to step around him, Tim raises a hand to Jason’s chest, pressing his palm flat against his sternum.
Jason stops moving, just stares at the fridge with his jaw set.
Sometimes, he just doesn’t get it. How Tim can just lay around in Jason’s apartment like there isn’t a time bomb sitting across from him at the table, next to him on the couch, curling around him in the bed.
Jesus, Tim is fucking the time bomb.
“What happened?” Tim asks, his voice gentle and quiet, and Jason only gets more irritated. He doesn’t understand.
“Are you hungry?” Jason asks, still glaring at the fridge.
“Jason,” Tim says, almost like a plea.
“Tim,” Jason says, almost like a warning.
“You didn’t even notice I was here.”
Jason’s jaw aches with how hard he’s clenching his teeth.
He just let Tim waltz into his life and take a seat in it like he belonged there, and he’s done such a good job of it that Jason didn’t even fucking notice him tonight. Like his body has gotten so used to him being there that his reflexes just shut off around him.
It wasn’t exactly the reminder he needed today.
And a while ago, when it was just sex, he might’ve leaped down Tim’s throat for pointing it out. But now, they do things like watch movies together and snuggle on the couch and cook each other dinner.
Well, sort of. Jason cooks him dinner. Tim buys it when it’s his turn.
But that’s the point, isn’t it? They take turns feeding each other. Fucking each other.
Taking care of each other.
So, he crushes the poisonous response between his teeth.
“Bad day,” is all he says.
Tim’s head tilts to the side as he examines him, and Jason doesn’t look at him. His eyes drop to Tim’s hand on his chest.
He doesn’t deserve comfort.
“I’m sorry,” Tim says quietly. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know, I just—”
Jason huffs a long breath through his nose, his hand running roughly back through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling.
“I think you should go,” he says quietly.
He’s still not looking at Tim, but from the corner of his eye, he spots the way his brow furrows, the way a frown pulls at his lips. Jason hates it, but it’s for the best, isn’t it?
Besides, Tim is just a reminder of all the things he’s trying not to think about right now.
There’s an excruciating moment of silence before Tim answers.
“Do you want me to go?”
Jason feels the way his lip twitches down, knows that Tim has clocked it before he can even open his mouth.
“That’s a no, then,” Tim says lightly. “How about I order some pizza? We can watch something. You’ve been trying to get me to watch Pride and Prejudice for years, we can do that.”
Jason doesn’t answer him. Tim’s hand is still pressed to his chest, and he can’t focus on anything but that point of contact.
“I’m not leaving you alone on your birthday, Jay.”
Jason scoffs. “Yeah, no one will fucking leave me alone today.”
Then Tim makes a familiar little noise, and Jason deflates.
Fucking detectives.
Jason waits patiently for Tim to bring it up, to push him, to pry .
At least he’ll have a good excuse for blowing up the one good thing in his life.
“You need a distraction.”
Jason’s gaze snaps to his, and he can see the gears turning in that sea of blue.
Tim’s lip curls up that way it always does when he’s solved something, and for a fleeting moment, Jason wants to lean in and press his lips to it, like always.
Then Tim opens his mouth.
“I’m calling Kon.”
Jason’s chest seizes. “What? No—”
The last thing he needs is Kon in the apartment right now. He doesn’t even want to be around Tim like this, let alone Conner. Besides, his bad days are his problem, not the fucking clone’s.
Then Jason feels bad about that thought, because he and Conner actually get along pretty well. It was tense, at first, with Kon acting like Tim’s fucking guard dog all the time.
Until Tim almost took a bullet to the fucking ribs and Jason was the only thing that stopped it. Since then, they’ve been able to occupy the same space and actually enjoy themselves.
It probably doesn’t hurt that Jason doesn’t care that Tim’s fucking both of them.
But still, occupying the same space and letting him bear witness to Jason’s misery are so far apart they’re on different fucking continents.
Unfortunately for Jason, it’s too late. Tim’s looking at the window and smiling, and Jason knows before he’s even turned to look that Kon is going to be floating above his fire escape.
“Come on in!” Tim says, like he fucking owns the place.
Jason isn’t as angry about that as he wants to be.
Kon opens the window, letting the security system zap his hand because it doesn’t do shit to him anyways.
“Oh, shit. It’s not going to like, blow up when I come in, is it?” Kon asks, throwing a concerned look at Tim, then Jason.
“Not while we’re inside,” Tim answers, but he still steps away, taking the warm anchor of his palm with him.
Jason stops himself from wrapping his hand around his wrist and dragging him back.
“Nice place. Hey, you good?” Kon asks Jason as Tim shuts off the security system. His brow furrows softly, his gaze tracking up and down Jason’s body.
Suddenly, Jason feels self-conscious.
“Yeah, I’m— I’m alright,” he says, feeling his ears burn a little.
Kon’s lip tilts down in the corner, the furrow in his brow cutting deeper.
Jason wishes he’d stop looking at him like that.
“It’s his birthday,” Tim explains as he steps away from the security system and waves a hand for Kon to slip through the window.
“Oh, happy birthday, man!” Kon says, smiling wide at him as he floats inside.
Jason doesn’t deserve that smile, either.
“Wait, if it’s your birthday, then why do you look—” he stops himself before he can finish that sentence, and then Jason’s teeth are gritted again.
“ Oh ,” Kon says, dragging out the word. “Dads, huh?”
Jason scowls and glances back to the fridge as Tim throws an elbow at Kon’s hip. Like always, he flinches away, as if Tim could actually hurt him.
“I’m sure Jason doesn’t want to think about whatever bullshit B pulled today, which is why you’re here. We need a distraction.”
“I don’t need—” Jason starts, but Kon cuts him off.
“Oh, the Batman is an asshole special! Alright, I’ll run you through it. We’re talking—” Kon raises a hand and starts counting on his fingers, “—dinner, empty threats about heat visioning him, video games, and dessert. In that order.”
Jason stares at the wide grin on Kon’s face, the dumb gloves on his fingers, the way his hair falls over his forehead and curls into his eyes, wide with excitement.
“Heat visioning him?”
That sounds pretty okay right about now.
“Now, I know what you’re going to say— hey, Tim, I need a takeout menu— oh, thanks.” Kon plucks the menu from Tim’s hand, glancing down at it. “Right, yeah. So Batman would pull out the kryptonite on me if I heat visioned him, of course. But I’m just saying, I think I could get in at least one good burn before that. What do you want on your pizza? And where should I permanently scar your mentor?”
Jason stares at Kon for another moment, absolutely bewildered.
But, the shock helps snap him out of his mood a little. Kon floating into his apartment (literally, the guy moves like gravity’s never fucking met him) and casually asking him where he should heat vision Bruce?
For just a moment, he forgets about the weight in his chest.
“Get me a Pacific veggie. And how about the face?”
“You got it. Damn, you must be really pissed at him. I’m sure he’s earned it, though. Anywhere specific on the face?” Kon flips the menu to the other side and leans against the back of the couch, drumming his fingers on the fabric.
“You know, if you could get close enough to TTK him, he wouldn’t be able to pull out the kryptonite to stop you,” Jason says.
Kon’s eyes snaps to Tim’s, a wide, smug look springing up on his face.
“See! Thank you!” Kon points at Jason, still looking at Tim. “I told you!”
Tim rolls his eyes and strides over to Jason, placing a hand on the small of his back and nudging him towards the couch.
And it's the worst reminder. The touch is so casual, so normal. Jason stiffens against it— he doesn’t deserve it, he isn’t safe enough for Tim to touch him like that. He starts walking towards the couch, if only to mask the way he's gone tense.
“I never said it wouldn’t work—”
“You totally did! You absolutely did. I specifically remember you saying—” Kon puts on a voice that’s a little higher than his own, mocking and snotty, as he floats over to Tim’s side, “— that would never work, Kon. You’re an idiot. ”
“I’ve never said that in my life,” Tim says, looking up at Kon with a charming smile as he grabs him by the collar of his jacket and drags him with them.
Kon lets out a scoff and crosses his arms over his chest. “Jason, are you hearing this bullshit?”
Jason is hearing it, and it is bullshit. Tim calls Kon an idiot three times a week, though he does always look fond when he says it, and Kon is usually being an idiot on purpose.
But the weight is still pressing down on his chest.
He tries for a laugh but it sounds a little flat, and Tim throws him a concerned look as they stop in front of the couch.
“Hey,” Kon says gently, his feet touching down on the ground next to Jason. “You want to talk about it?”
Jason turns to look at Kon, sees the way his eyes hold— it isn’t just sympathy, is it? Not in the casual way that he doesn’t want anyone to feel bad, because he’s a fucking superhero.
He’s concerned. About Jason.
He looks like he cares.
Tim plucks the menu from Kon’s hand and slips around them, towards the bedroom.
“I’ll be right back, I’m going to place the order,” he calls over his shoulder.
Jason breathes a little easier once the door is shut behind him. His eyes linger on the place Tim was standing, his teeth worrying the inside of his lip.
“Hey,” Kon says again, and the part of Jason that should want to snap stop fucking saying hey, I’m right here, is nowhere to be found. “Tim’s fine, alright?”
Then Jason’s gaze is on Kon, guarded. He has to tilt his head up a little to look at Kon, but it doesn’t stop him from glaring.
“Woah, woah, chill,” Kon raises his hands in the air and spreads them wide, the same way Tim did, and Jason almost flinches at it.
Almost.
“You both make that same face when you’re worried, and you’ve been making it at Tim since I got here. He’s fine, dude. He’s comfortable here.”
And before Jason can stop himself, his mouth is opening.
“Don’t you think that’s the fucking problem?”
Kon frowns at him, his brow furrowing again. Then, Jason sees a spark of realization in his eyes.
“Oh,” Kon says.
Jason drops down onto the couch with a sigh, right in the middle, bringing his thumb and his forefinger up to rub at his eyes.
“Bruce said some shit. About us spending time together.”
Jason doesn’t know why it falls out of his mouth. They’ve never even been alone together.
“Does he know?” Kon asks.
“Know what?”
“That you’re sleeping together.”
Jason’s eyes snap up to Kon’s. He didn’t know that Kon knew that.
“Does he know that you’re sleeping together?” Jason asks, because he wants to even the ground, and also because he’s an asshole.
Kon shrugs, unbothered by that. “Probably. He hasn’t said it specifically, but he’s Batman, so.”
There’s an odd silence while they watch each other, everything out on display between them. It isn’t quite uncomfortable, just… full. Heavy.
“What did he say?” Kon asks.
“I’m bad for him. I’m going to hurt him. Again ,” Jason adds, because it’s true.
And Kon fucking snorts. He shakes his head, laughing, as he says, “No, you’re not.”
Jason gives him his most disbelieving look.
Kon sighs and floats lazily down on the couch next to Jason, leaning back and throwing his arm across the back of the couch.
“You threw yourself in front of a bullet for him, dude.”
“I also grabbed him by the throat right before you got here.”
Kon frowns, and Jason’s gut twists with guilt. “Why?”
“I didn’t mean to,” Jason admits. “I just didn’t realize he was here. He snuck up on me.”
“Bat reflexes,” Kon says with a nod of understanding. “But you didn’t hurt him, did you?”
Jason stiffens, even though he hears the way that Kon says it.
It isn’t an accusation, or a warning. He says it like he already knows the answer.
“No,” he says anyways.
“So you proved Bruce wrong.”
Jason frowns, picking at an imaginary thread on his jeans. “But I could have hurt him.”
Kon chews his lip and stares at Jason, assessing. It’s hard not to squirm under the attention, hard to resist the urge to get up and pace or find something to clean or just fucking walk out of the apartment.
But he manages, because Tim’s in the other room, and Kon will probably stop him even if he tries.
For some reason, that doesn’t make him feel trapped.
“I ever tell you about the time I dislocated Tim’s shoulder?”
Jason’s eyes flick back up to Kon’s, to the way his expression has gone heavy, his lips pursed in a thin line, his eyes regretful.
He’s never really noticed how blue they are.
They’re that Kryptonian blue, that unnatural, bright teal that almost glow. Like light refracting in a gem.
Jason understands why Tim sleeps with him.
He’s fucking gorgeous.
“He was falling,” Kon explains, dragging Jason away from that train of thought. “My TTK was sort of new— well. Not really, I guess. I just wasn’t used to using it on people yet. It wasn’t a reflex. Anyways, I grabbed his hand and I didn’t use my TTK, and… his shoulder popped out of the socket.” Kon’s gaze has gone a little distant, and Jason recognizes the look.
He’d bet anything that he’s hearing the noise of it replaying in his head.
“I could’ve ripped it out,” Kon says, his tone regretful and sad and a little bit scared.
Jason understands that.
“But I didn’t. He was okay, and I trained up my TTK and got used to using it on people, and it hasn’t happened since.”
Kon’s gaze refocuses on Jason, but that haunted look is still lingering in his eyes.
“You’re not afraid it’ll happen again?”
“Of course I am,” Kon says with a shrug. “I’m always going to be afraid that I’ll hurt him.”
The surprised look on Jason’s face only earns him a disbelieving one from Conner.
“I’m a fucking Kryptonian, Jason. I could look at him too hard and kill him. Literally.”
“So then… why are you still doing it?”
“Doing him, you mean?” Kon asks with a smirk that’s a bit of a leer, and Jason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but his mouth is tilted up a tiny bit in the corner, like it can’t help looking fond.
He drops the leer as he answers, “Because I can use my super awesome abilities to protect him instead.”
Jason’s gaze flickers between Kon’s eyes, and Kon gives him a sympathetic look before nudging him with his knee.
“Like you do,” he adds.
There’s something steady about the smooth confidence of those words. About his easy presence next to Jason right now.
Like he’s the earth under his feet. Like he’s gravity right now, keeping Jason tethered.
“You’re not…” Jason licks his lips, almost hesitant to ask the question. “You really aren’t afraid that I’m going to hurt him?”
“No.”
Jason’s eyes trail over the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his brows relax, the look in his eyes. Sincere.
Kon tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow, the beginnings of a grin tucked into the corner of his lips. “Besides, I’m here. You think I’d even let you?”
Jason rolls his eyes again, drawing out his exasperation. Kon laughs, easy and free, the way he always does when he annoys one of them.
But the weight on Jason’s chest feels less crushing.
Kon trusts him not to hurt Tim.
And he’s right. Even if Tim is in a room with a bomb in it, Kon would get him out of the blast range in time.
“He’s a fucking adrenaline junkie,” Jason says, leaning back against the couch. His head falls back before he remembers that Kon’s arm is behind him, and he stiffens momentarily as he realizes.
But Kon drops his arm around Jason, tugging him in and leaning down to whisper conspiratorially in his ear.
“He’s our adrenaline junkie,” Kon says, and Jason lets out a breathy laugh, leans a little into the hold when Kon squeezes his shoulder gently.
Something in Jason’s chest squeezes a little. Kon’s never been this close to him before.
Kon’s never even touched him before.
God, is Conner always this warm? He’s like a heated fucking blanket, soft and heavy and warm.
Tim opens the door to the bedroom, wearing a different pair of pants and shirt than he had on before. Jason knows that he’s been letting them talk, probably only changed to make it look like he had a good reason for taking so long.
Probably had his ear pressed to the fucking door, actually, with the way he’s looking at him.
Not that Jason can blame him.
“Well, this looks cozy,” Tim says, leaning against the doorframe and cocking his hip out, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jason’s face burns, and he almost moves to pull away, but Kon leans a little closer to Jason, curls a little tighter around him.
“We’ve got room for one more,” Kon says, patting his own lap.
Tim rolls his eyes and says, “Your pickup lines are the worst thing about you.”
But he still walks over and drops down on Kon’s lap, throwing his legs over Jason’s.
“Oh, please, you love them. Besides, this is the secret fifth step of the Batman is an Asshole special.”
“Cuddling?” Jason scoffs, but he doesn’t move away.
“Oh, yeah. Cuddling,” Kon says solemnly, tugging Jason into his chest.
And it’s interesting, the way Kon does it— because Jason could have resisted it, and he can tell. He feels the amount of pressure being applied and knows that if he’d pushed back against it, Kon wouldn’t have moved him.
It clicks for him in that moment, just how careful Kon must have to be, every second of the day. Every touch could be fatal if he isn’t careful enough, and that’s nothing compared to what Jason has to control.
And that helps, too. Because if Kon can let himself have this anyways, why can’t Jason?
And since when does he fucking listen to Bruce, anyways?
He leans into Kon’s chest and throws his arm over Tim’s legs, hauling them in closer.
“If either of you tells anyone about this, I’ll get Babs to release the footage of the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done.”
“She wouldn’t,” Tim says.
“She doesn’t have footage of it,” Kon says.
Tim snorts, and Kon pokes at his side and tells him not to tell the story. So of course, Tim starts telling the story.
They talk and laugh while they wait for the pizza to get there, and while they eat. After they’re done, Tim starts complaining about the lack of video games in the apartment, and Kon starts making a list of games that Jason needs to play, and it takes about twenty-five years to get them to actually pick a movie because they keep thinking of games.
Jason is both deeply irritated and incredibly grateful.
It just feels so… normal. So easy.
When Jason leans forward to help clear off the coffee table, Tim knocks his hand away easily.
“Birthday boy doesn’t lift a finger. I got it.”
Jason narrows his eyes at him and leans forward to try again.
“Kon,” Tim commands, and then two warm, heavy arms are wrapped around Jason’s waist.
“Sorry, you heard the boss,” Kon says in his ear, and suddenly, Jason’s heart is pounding in his chest.
Kon’s arms tense for a moment, and Jason watches Tim clear off the table, trying to get his heartbeat under control.
But before he can, Kon’s palms press flat against Jason’s stomach, pulling him a little closer, and he hooks his chin over Jason’s shoulder.
It doesn’t matter that he was trying to get his heart rate down. His ears go hot, and he can feel it spreading all the way down his fucking neck. His gut goes tight, something warm at the base of it, and Kon huffs a breathy laugh in his ear.
“Yeah?” he asks, low and quiet and promising, and Jason feels the way his body leans a little closer to him, like he just can’t help it.
He watches Tim pick up the pizza boxes and walk out of sight, bringing them to the kitchen.
Abandoning him.
“You know, I didn’t bring you a birthday gift,” Kon says, letting his hand slide a little lower down Jason’s hip, smooth and steady. “But I can think of something to give you.”
“Tim was right. Your pickup lines are the worst,” Jason says, but he can hear the way his voice has gone rough and low, heavy with everything he’s somehow never thought about before.
And Kon laughs in his ear, and then his palms are sliding back to rest on Jason’s hips, exactly where they’d sit if he were riding Kon, or on his hands and knees in front of him—
“Offer’s on the table. If you’re interested.”
Then one of his hands is sliding away and Tim is walking back into the room, holding a cake with a lit candle on it. His eyes snap to Jason’s, and he raises an eyebrow, looking back and forth between him and Kon.
“Kon, did you proposition him?”
Jason feels Kon shrug against him, and his thumb runs a track over Jason’s side, his skin prickling under the touch.
“What, are you mad? That’d be pretty hypocritical, since you’re sleeping with us both.”
Tim’s face burns in the candlelight, his eyes flicking nervously to Jason’s.
Jason rolls his eyes. “Did you think we didn’t know?”
The look in Tim’s eyes is answer enough.
“Neither of us has a problem with it, for the record. Wait, you don’t have a problem with it, right?” Kon asks.
Jason snorts, then says, “No.”
“Okay, cool. Hey, blow that out so we can eat. What kind of cake is it?”
Kon’s thumb is still running a casual track across Jason’s hip, and Jason finds it just distracting enough that he has to think for a minute before the words on the cake make sense to him.
Happy ?th Birthday Jason!
Jason snickers at the running joke. He’s seen this same message on cakes for Kon and Bart, before. A lot of people Tim knows haven’t really aged right.
Tim answers as Jason blows out the candle.
Then Kon leans around him to pluck the candle out and catches Jason’s eye as he opens his mouth, curling his tongue around it to lick off the frosting. He seals his lips around it, his eyes going a little teasing as he pulls it out slowly.
As it pops out from between his lips, he throws Jason a wink.
His ears burn again.
“Oh my god . Kon, stop fellating the birthday candle and queue up Megamind . Why am I still fucking you?” Tim asks as he cuts the cake into uniform slices, his eyes locked intently on it like he was testing the waters with the comment. Seeing if both of them really were okay with it.
Jason laughs, because really, he is. He’s actually glad that Kon came, even if he still sort of wishes Tim hadn’t called him.
“Because I do that awesome thing with my TTK?” Kon asks as he scoops up the remote.
Instead of answering him, Tim says to Jason, “Lean the futon back, will you? I want to lay down for the movie— Kon, shut your mouth, step five is cuddling, not sex. That is not why we’re here tonight.”
Tim throws him an apologetic look, and Jason offers him an eye roll and a grin.
Look, Conner’s gorgeous and kind and irritating in that way that you can’t help being fond of. But Jason wants to think about it a little first, and he’s not really in the headspace today for making decisions that aren’t self-destructive.
And Tim knows that, Jason thinks. Especially after he told him he should go, before all this.
Tim hands him a slice of cake and grins at him, and guilt twists Jason’s stomach.
“Thank you,” he says, as sincerely as he can muster. He can’t produce anything more than that, he’s already used up all his vulnerability for the day.
From the look in Tim’s eyes, it’s clear he hears what Jason isn’t saying.
“My pleasure,” he says softly, and Jason’s stomach warms, the tension in it going slack.
He reaches for Tim’s waist, pulls him down on the couch next to him so that their legs are pressed together. Tim leans his head on Jason’s shoulder as he starts eating, still smiling softly.
When Jason finishes off his cake, he leans forward to place his empty plate next to Kon and Tim’s, and suddenly, there’s a bit of a breeze. Just a split second where Kon’s presence flickers before returning, and then the cake on the table is gone, the plates are rattling in the sink, and the door to the fridge is clicking shut.
“Oh!” he says, and then the lights are off, and Kon’s a little closer than before. “Come on, time for more of step five.”
Kon slides his palm across Jason’s stomach and tries to press him back towards the couch.
Jason resists, almost just to see if it’ll work— and it does.
There’s a split second where it’s difficult to resist, and then the pressure is gone, though his hand is still gently ghosting over Jason’s hip, just barely touching him.
“You don’t want—” Jason asks, his eyes flicking to Tim before flashing back to Kon.
“The Batman is an asshole special is for you tonight, dude.”
“Besides, it’s your birthday,” Tim adds, and his hand joins Kon’s around Jason’s waist, and the warmth in his chest spreads under the touches.
He lets them pull him back down on the couch, allowing Kon to arrange them against the cushions so that he’s got Jason pressed to his chest, and Jason has Tim pressed to his. Their heads are stacked on top of each other so that they can each see the movie.
Jason has both arms wrapped around Tim the way he usually does when he’s the big spoon, and as always, it’s nice to be holding him close, to have that warmth pressed against his front.
But what makes it perfect is the warmth at his back, the arm thrown across him to rest on Tim’s hand, the way that Kon’s fingers eventually slide off of Tim’s hand and onto Jason’s, the way he nuzzles his cheek into Jason’s hair when he really gets comfortable.
The cozy warmth of it seeps all the way down into his bones, a kind of soft comfort he didn’t know that he could have.
He leans harder into Kon’s chest and pulls Tim a little closer, pressing a kiss into his hair, and he feels Kon grin at the same time as Tim lets out a content little noise.
For now, he can have this.