Work Text:
“It's too freaking cold for this,” Jason grumbled, rocking back and forth as he tried to generate heat by rubbing his hands over his arms.
Tim shot him a judgmental look. Well actually, Jason didn't know what kind of look it was thanks to Red Robin's mask, but it was Tim so it was probably judgmental.
“What?” Jason stilled his movements, ready for the challenge.
“It's not even below freezing and you are fully covered with gloves and a hood, how can you possibly be cold?” Tim's voice carried on the sharp breeze and cut straight into the fabric of Jason's lightweight armor.
That was definitely a judgmental tone and Jason immediately bristled, puffing up defensively. “I'm a reanimated corpse! I'm always cold!”
Red Robin's mouth opened, probably for another oh-so-perfect comeback, but Jason had a lightbulb moment. He was going to win this time.
“I deserve compensation and care for this!” Jason cut off any response from Tim and wagged a finger in his direction.
Tim's jaw dropped and his shoulders went slack with disbelief. “What?”
“I want a paid leave for my troubles!” Jason continued, inwardly leaping for joy at finally wrong footing Tim.
“You're a vigilante Jay!” Tim cried, shock overriding senses as he name dropped Jason.
Jason didn't care about the name, he focused on what really mattered– suppression by the man. “So that means I don't deserve basic workers rights? I died Tim and that is a chronic illness that deserves paid leave compensation in the cold!”
Tim's shout of despair brought a small ray of joy into Jason's heart. “We don't get paid for doing this at all!” Tim shouted, throwing his hands up.
“Well,” Jason turned his nose up to the sky, “maybe that's the problem rich boy!”
“What!?” Tim's screech was really going to gain attention, but Jason was enjoying himself too much.
“You are slaving us all out here! Making profit off our hard work, and repaying us with shit working conditions!” he spouted off.
“What!?” Tim stammered. “This is–”
Jason cut him off easily. “I'm calling the others. We are unionizing against you. See you at the picket line scab!” He sprinted across the rooftop before Tim could gain his bearings, already pulling out his phone to text Dick and Steph.
RH: Robin Union?
Spoils: Fuck yeah. 🍆💜
RH: Red not allowed.
NW: 😢Ah what'd little red do big red?
RH: Hes with the man 🦇
NW: ?? 🤔Doesnt he literally run the union rep for WE?? 😢
RH: Dont logic this Dickhead. Its cold. I'm picketing. Are you in or out?
Spoils: In! 🍆💜
NW: Yeah in,💙🩵 can I invite Robin at least? 💙🩵 He needs to be included more. 💙🩵
Spoils: Yeah 🍆💜 and glowboy!
RH: Fine, No B- and Red has to give into demands first.
NW: ..and wat are the demands??🤔
RH: Warmth.
NW: …
NW: 🥺 ill hug you Jay 💙🩵RH: Fuck off dick
O: You're all lucky this is a secure chat.
O: Also Cass and I are in. We want heated floors in the clock tower.NW: 🤔 surely you could handle that?
O: You are either with us or against Blueboy. Choose carefully.
Jason grinned, plan in motion. He barely knew the objective but he felt like he was going to win this time. His phone buzzed and Jason glanced back to see a new message, not in the group, but sent directly to him.
Spoils: you could just tell tim you want a hug. Hed cream his pants to get a shot at those tits. 🍆💜
Jason nearly dropped his phone. He furiously glanced about ensuring he was alone on the rooftop, but seeing nothing but the empty space, he felt a false bravado sweep through him as he answered.
RH: nah, hes gotta earn it
“So you're unionizing,” Tim repeated cautiously.
“Yep,” Jason easily agreed. He leaned back in the cushiony office chair across from Tim as he propped his feet up on Tim's desk.
Tim's fingers laced together as he arched an eyebrow at the movement, but seeing as Jason's boots were nowhere near anything actually important, he chose to ignore.
“Against me specifically,” Tim continued dryly.
Jason hummed and waved his hand casually. “I lumped B in there too.”
Tim sighed, “What are your demands?” He glanced over Jason's shoulder at the closed door of his office.
It may be the middle of the work day for Tim Drake-Wayne, but Jason had specifically ensured that they wouldn’t be interrupted this time. The office was secluded, soundproof and the perfect place to execute his plans.
Jason grinned, confidence filling his voice, “An end to winter and chronic pain.”
“What?” Tim sat up straight, eyes widening. “Jason, be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious,” Jason replied solemnly. “My bones hurt, Tim. Like all the time. Worse in the cold.”
Tim looked aggrieved at the comment. “But Jason I can’t–”
Jason didn't let him continue, he didn't need Tim going too far into a guilt trip. “Isn't this about compromise Timmy? Tell me what you can do,” he offered magnanimously.
Tim stared, eyes calculating as they roamed over Jason's body and a flare of hope rose in him. He straightened a bit, hoping his preening wasn't too obvious. Jason had prepped hard for this meeting in Tim's office; his hair was styled, he'd dabbed on a bit of makeup to smooth his skin and accentuate his freckles and worn a shirt that he knew made his eyes pop.
“I think there is a project down in R&D that was geared towards an improved temperature control flight suit,” Tim spoke decisively. “I could get the schematics and try to slim it to your suit style so it provides a more consistent delivery of–”
“What about the pay?” Jason interrupted Tim's logistics rant. He kept his face calm, refusing to show the disappointment of Tim’s choice of direction. Jason wasn’t going to lose this time.
Tim stopped abruptly, eyes snapping back to Jason's face. “I don't pay you, Jason. You are a self-described crime lord.”
Jason waved a hand dismissively. “Allegedly.”
“Allegedly,” Tim raised an eyebrow as he slowly spoke, "you have over half a million in loose cash that you only touch to fund various shelters in the city. If you wanted to live better–”
Time to be direct. He smirked at Tim. “Maybe I don't want my own place,” he drawled, then shot the man a wink, “Maybe I want yours.”
Tim's face twisted in confusion. “You want my apartment specifically? Well, I guess if it'd make you happy I can move out and find another one.” Tim looked down as if he was seriously considering uprooting his entire home for Jason’s comfort.
It was Jason's turn to be shocked. His jaw dropped and he yanked his feet off the desk to fly upright, quickly standing with a shout. “No! That's not what I want!”
“Then what do you want?” Tim finally looked at him, eyes round and concerned. “Because Jason, I have negotiated contracts for over half my life and I honestly cannot figure out your angle here!” He stood, stalking around the desk to face Jason as he ranted. They were nearly nose-to-nose as Tim continued his speech. “You're acting selfish and impulsive and you are literally the least selfish person I know and one of the smartest people.” Tim raked a hand through his hair, disheveling it in a charming way. “I’m losing my mind, I would rip out my own heart and give it to you if that'd help but–”
Jason grabbed his shoulders and hauled him up, cutting off the rant with a quick kiss. “That's acceptable,” he whispered, enjoying the way Tim's own dry lips felt beneath his.
“What?” Tim murmured dazedly.
“I'll take your heart,” Jason said as he pulled back just enough to look Tim in the eye again. “You've had mine for long enough after all.”
Tim blinked, brain clearly not back online yet. “What?”
Jason grinned at how affected the normally business professional Tim appeared. He was swaying slightly, eyes a bit unfocused, but his hands clutched tightly at Jason's arms, not letting him move back at all. “I mean the suit idea is nice, but I only want your apartment if you're in it too.”
Tim blinked focusing a little more, eyes watching Jason's lips form the words. “But–”
Jason squeezed him just slightly, already soaking in the warmth of Tim's body from the embrace. “And Tim, next time someone is cold on a roof, try a hug, yeah?” Jason teased, the ground feeling solid again as he once more gained the upper hand.
“Oh,” Tim sighed softly, then his arms snaked around Jason's neck and comforting, soothing heat flooded through Jason's core. He felt his body relax as he leaned into the feeling, absorbing every bit he could.
“Oh,” Tim repeated, clearing his throat. “That's.. yeah, I can do that.” He nuzzled his nose against Jason's, the intimacy of it sending tingles down Jason's spine.
“Good,” Jason's voice was soft, not wanting to disrupt the quiet bubble that had appeared around then. “Then I think the Robin's Union can accept your membership now.”
Tim groaned and then barked a laugh. “Nah, I think I need some more negotiation,” his fingers tangled in the curls at the back of Jason's neck.
“Oh, is that so?” Jason's hands rested on Tim's hips, soaking in the heat. “Need a demonstration of performance?”
Tim's face flushed. “Yes,” he whispered, already moving closer so his words brushed against Jason's lips, “on repeat.”
Their lips met again, more warmth flooding into Jason's being and soaking into his soul.