{tim from tim hortons}
The only thing worse than working the graveyard shift? Working the early bird shift. See, Tim Drake didn't mind getting up early. At a manageable time, like say, six? Yes, that was fine, he could handle that. But four in the morning to wake up and go to work? Nope. Nope, that wasn't fun at all. But Tim couldn't complain. A job was a job, and hey, at least he got coffee out of it.
"Jason," Tim whispered, kneeling down in front of the couch where his roommate had fallen asleep the night before. Tim bit his lip, and he reached over to tug his visor out from under the sleeping man. Jason whacked him across the mouth, and Tim tumbled onto his side, cupping his cheek with wide eyes. "Jason!"
"What," a groggy, grumpy Jason growled, his voice thick with sleep. "Whatthefuck?"
"You fell asleep on my visor," Tim said, yanking the headwear out from under Jason's stomach. "And you punched me!"
"Get… the fuck out…" Jason grumbled, turning over on his side.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving," Tim said, jamming his visor on his head. "Hung over?"
Jason bolted up straight, grabbing the rolled up Star Wars snuggie he'd used as a makeshift pillow and flinging it at Tim's head. He missed by a few feet. "Get the fuck out of here, or I swear to fucking God—!"
Tim was already at the door. "If you feel sick, there's a bucket next to you," he called back. He didn't bother looking back as he listened to Jason swear profusely under his breath. Jason wasn't an ideal roommate, but Tim could stand him enough. As long as he cleaned up after himself and didn't get into too much trouble, who was Tim to judge? Anyway, they were friends. Of sorts. Whenever Jason didn't disappear at night, he'd stay in the apartment and bug Tim until they ended up watching shitty movies on Netflix.
His ride was waiting for him outside, the dark car blending into the darkness of the early morning. He opened the passenger door and plopped down beside his friend and co-worker, Cassandra Cain. She was peering at him from behind the unruly spikes of inky black hair that were flung around her head in an array of ruffled tresses. She didn't often comb it out, and besides, it was short enough that the messy look worked for her. She sat back as he buckled his seatbelt, dropping his bag at his feet.
"Morning," Tim yawned, stretching his arms back. Cass blinked at him for a few moments before starting the car.
"Good morning," she said, her accent clinging thickly to her words. Cass was an exchange student, and was still very unaccustomed to English. They went to the same university, but had none of the same classes. Which sucked, because Cassandra was pretty damn cool. Tim was also pretty sure she was a ninja, or like, a super hero or something, because she'd stopped a gang from mugging Tim single handedly, and without breaking a sweat.
She was just really, really freaking cool.
Their drive was quiet, as usual. Tim crossed his legs on the seat and pulled a book into his lap, reading as best he could in the dimness of morning. It was about five now, and the sky was still black. Tim was dozing off from the surreal sight of the streetlamps streaking by, yellow smearing against the blackness. The roads were deserted, and there was a kiss of frost licking at the frames of the windows. Autumn was beginning to fade, and there was a crispness to the air around them.
Cass and Tim, as usual, were freakishly early. They sat together on the curb outside Tim Hortons, huddling up under Tim's coat as Cass held up a flashlight, and Tim held her heavy textbook. She couldn't read a lot of the words herself, so he helped her out with her homework.
"You guys are freaks of nature," joked their energetic manager, Dick Grayson, as he unlocked the doors for them. "Why don't you at least like, sit in the car or something? It's chilly out here!"
"Sunrise," Cass explained, dusting the frost from her hair.
"Aw," Dick said, ruffling her hair and beaming at them. "You two are so cute. Now come on, let's get the chairs down."
They went on with the morning routine, and by the time Harper Row showed up, her choppy blue hair falling over her visor. She hopped over the counter, jerking her chin in greeting to Cass and Tim before stripping off her beaten up green coat, tossing it under the counter. She rolled up her sleeves, the dark wings of her wrist tattoo bare for them all to see. Tim knew for a fact that Jason had been the one who had done the tattoo for her. And the piercings on her nose and lip.
"Harper," Dick said, trying his best to look disapproving. It didn't really work. Dick couldn't do the whole 'stern adult' thing. He was really the least mature worker there. "Piercings."
Harper frowned for a few moments, and she groaned. "Fine," she said, carefully removing the lip ring. The nose ring too a bit more time but she managed to get it out, and shoved it in her pocket. "It's a stupid rule."
"Piercings will scare away the little children who come for sugary treats," Tim informed her, leaning against the counter top as he waited for the shop to open.
Harper stared at him for a long moment. "Dude," she said. "My face already scares little children."
"Hey, there!" Dick gasped, scooting himself between them. "Don't talk like that, Harper. You have a nice face!"
"You and my brother should make a club," Harper said, her eyes narrowing at their manager. "All aboard the Harper ego-boost train."
"Choo choo," Cass said, appearing behind Harper. The blue haired girl jumped, her eyes flashing wide. Cassandra cracked a smile, and disappeared back to the drive through window.
"Someone's gotta put a bell on that girl," Harper observed. Tim rolled his eyes, and he yawned again. Harper yawned as well, ruffling her hair as they made meager conversation. The smell of coffee should have been sickening by now, but Tim was too addicted to get sick of it. It was like a life line for someone like him, a kid who pulls three all-nighters in a row without thinking about the consequences.
The shop got busy on schedule, and they went off to do their jobs. Harper did the coffee and Tim did the register, while Dick and Cass did the drive-through. Sometimes they'd switch with Dick, who was currently taking the drive-through orders, but Cass was the only one whose job never changed. She didn't need to speak in order to take change and hand out coffee, and so she excelled at it. Not that Cass couldn't speak English. She just wasn't particularly good at it. Math, however, she was very good at.
"Hey, Timbits." Jason came in around eight that morning, cutting the line in front of a blonde girl, and smirking as Tim glared at him. "Can I have my usual?"
"Get in line," Tim said. And then he flushed bright red, his eyes widening. "And don't call me that!"
"Touchy, touchy," Jason chuckled, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "Hey, Harp! Wanna smoke?"
"Working!" Harper reminded sharply. "Try it sometime!"
"You're going to make me regret giving you free tats for the rest of my life," Jason said with a sigh, backing up. "Okay, okay, whatever."
Tim focused on the girl in front of him, who was watching the exchange with large, curious eyes. She giggled, brushing a strand of pale hair out of her eyes. "Timbits?" she asked. Tim found himself flushing an even deeper shade of red, and he glared at Jason from his place at the back of the line. His roommate flipped him off in response.
"Ignore that," Tim said, taking a deep breath. "My name is Tim, so he likes to tease me."
"No," the girl said, her eyes glowing with amusement. "I asked for Timbits, remember?"
He opened his mouth. And then he closed it. "Um," he said, his voice a little strained. He could feel his face burning, and he glanced away fast, pressing his lips together firmly to keep himself from making a hopeless, strangled noise. "Oh."
The girl laughed a little more, and she cocked her head. She was really pretty, which would have been the first thing he had noticed if Jason hadn't distracted him. It also made the situation ten times worse, because now he felt really awkward and self-conscious, and shit, she was really pretty, why did this always have to happen to him? Why? Jason, I hate you so much, I hope the next tattoo you get turns out fucked, Tim thought bitterly, his face still glowing bright red.
"Aren't you the drive through guy?" the girl asked. She was standing with her head tilted and her hip cocked, as if she wanted to get a better look at him.
"Uh," Tim said, his voice quiet to keep it from squeaking. "Some…times? I-I mean, not right now. Obviously. But yeah, sometimes I am. Um, do you want anything else, or…?"
"I'm Steph," the girl said. Tim stared at her, and he wanted to shrink into his shoes and just never ever come up. "You know, french vanilla cappuccino every day for the past like, year and a half?"
"Shit." Tim should have recognized her voice. She had a bad habit of gabbing for far too long when ordering, to the point where she needed to be beeped at to get her to move to the window. Tim had never actually seen her face before. She'd never come in before. He groaned, rubbing his cheek tiredly. "Wow. I am such an idiot, I'm so sorry, I should have recognized your voice. Harper, you got that?"
"Yep," Harper said, jerking a thumbs up at him. "Slap Jason for me when he gets up here, will you?"
Tim couldn't even smile, he felt so embarrassed. "Will do," Tim said, his voice still very quiet to keep himself from sounding even more like a dumbass.
"Um, actually," Steph said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her hair was shoulder length, tumbling like waves of flax. She had a slim, smooth face, pale and unblemished, and when her smile widened it lit up bright. Her eyes were very large and blue, perpetually alight with some childlike glow, and he couldn't hold her gaze for very long because he felt so stupid, and it just made him blush more. I'm nineteen years old, I shouldn't be this nervous around girls, damn it. "I'm here because I won." She held up a roll-up-the-rim stub between her fingers, and Tim stared at it.
"Oh. Okay, then. What did you win?" He reached for the stub, and Steph yanked it back from him. He found himself staring at her with a startled, confused gaze, and he pulled back. She was giving him a very odd look, and as Harper set down the coffee beside Tim, she elbowed him in the rib. He looked down at her sharply, but Harper merely stuck her tongue out at him, and hissed, "Stop staring at her boobs!"
Tim wanted to smack himself. "I wasn't!" he hissed back, his shoulders tensing defensively. He glanced back at Steph, who was watching him with raised eyebrows. He couldn't help but flush more. This was… the absolute worst. Holy shit. "I wasn't," he said weakly.
"No biggie," she said, shrugging. "My prize is you."
"What?" he asked flatly. Oh god, he thought, his mind reeling. What the hell?
Stephanie studied him, her lips stretching into a coy grin. She shook her head in amusement, and offered out the stub, and he grabbed it a little to fast from between her fingers. He studied the torn piece of paper, and he stared down at the words printed in bold across the wrinkled unwound rim. He found himself glaring at it, scowling as his face burned so hot that he felt like he was overheating.
"You really get a kick out of watching me squirm," Tim said, handing the stub with the words WIN/10 TIMBITS back to her.
"Um, yes?" Steph laughed, taking the stub back. "Yes, I really, really do."
I'm still crying over this, I have never written anything centering around Tim before where he doesn't get brutally tortured aND I CANNOT.
I don't write humor often, okay? Also I don't live in Canada, so excuse any inaccuracies, there isn't a Tim Hortons where I live.