AN: For JayTim week 2016- day six: redemption

Jason Todd is an ass.

It's been speculated, but today… Today it's been confirmed. He is horrible and says horrible things.

The problem is that his mouth goes on before his brain, without permission. It blurts out his first thought even though it's a bad, bad thought and not truly how he feels at all, when given a moment to consider; he was just surprised, okay? And nervous, Tim makes him so nervous, even on a normal day, and then he'd walked in wearing... But it's too late because he's already said it and. And Tim is devastated.

It doesn't last long, a few seconds, but more than enough for Jason to see the hurt and embarrassment and doubt and anger before Tim shuts it all down and gives a look of practiced indifference that somehow is even worse.

"Shit, Tim. I'm sorry, I don't-"

"Stop," Tim cuts in, sharp and firm.

"No, I shouldn't have-"

"I don't want to hear it," Tim says as he turns to leave, and Jason wants to grab him and hold him and grovel until Tim believes that he really is sorry, but his hands stay at his sides and Tim walks through the door, leaving Jason alone in the break room.

All Jason can think is how beautiful Tim looked in that dress and how he hopes Tim won't stop wearing them, just because of one stupid thing Jason said.

Tim doesn't stop wearing them, Jason finds, the next day and the next and then the following Saturday. He doesn't know about Friday because it was Jason's day off. He had considered showing up anyway, just to check, but Tim wouldn't have been happy to see him.

Tim hasn't talked to Jason since the incident, other than obligatory pleasantries, and even those have been sparse. The arcade they work at is not a huge place and yet Tim manages to avoid Jason for hours on end. The only time they interact really is when it's busy and two people are needed to man the ticket redemption counter, but that time is mostly spent dodging each other, running back and forth to grab different cheap toys and novelty items, and shouting over the crowd of kids to please pass one of those sparkly erasers, no the pink one, thanks.

It sucks. They used to be friendly. Not particularly close, but Jason would plan his breaks at the same time as Tim, and they'd sit in the staff room near each other and Tim would listen to music while Jason read, and it was nice. And maybe Jason thought Tim was beautiful even before he put on a dress, and used to spend the slow times at work playing with little plastic skateboards and thinking about what it would be like to hang out with Tim somewhere else, somewhere quiet and clean where they could… talk. And stuff. And then Jason would get nervous just thinking about talking to Tim and he'd throw away any hopes of ever actually asking the kid out.

It's worse, now, when Tim walks by in a tight black dress, baggy flannel shirt, and scuffed up converse shoes. Or a Star Trek t-shirt with a floral skirt that flows around his legs as he moves and makes Jason want to reach out and touch, run his fingers over the fabric. Tim Drake is the most baffling combination of styles, soft and gritty, sweet and defiant, and Jason never had realised it before. Now it's clear in the way he dresses, the way he carries himself, because that has changed, too. He seems more sure of himself, even when someone gives him a strange look he stares back with a smile, with none of the embarrassment or shame he'd shown when Jason had said- when that thing happened.

It all makes Jason fall even deeper for the kid, and makes it more impossible that Jason will ever manage to get anywhere with him. Because Tim is intimidating and even if Jason could get past that, Tim will never forgive him.

"I've got to do something."

"You're right." Dick nods sympathetically. "You've been sitting there not working for about twenty minutes."

Twenty painful minutes in which Jason has been watching Tim wipe tables and sweep the floor, and never has he wanted to be a table until he saw Tim rubbing one down. Tim is radiant in his waist-high denim skirt with suspenders over a black button up. He's pulled back his hair in a short ponytail that sticks straight out, and the hair that's too short in the front curls around his face.

"No, I'm saying I have to do something about Tim."

"And I'm saying the restrooms need to be cleaned."

Jason finally looks away from where Tim is handling the broom to glare at Dick (and for his own sanity). "I'm manning the redemption counter, it's not my fault no one has come up to get something in a while."

Dick sweeps his judgmental eyes over Jason's station. "Looks like you could do some organising."

And that may be true, he has let it get a bit messy, but he rolls his eyes anyway. "I'm serious. He won't even look at me."

"Yes he does," Dick assures him, but Jason isn't mollified, because Dick might just say that to make him feel better and get back to work. But Dick leans against the counter and deflates a touch, and in an instant he's friend-Dick, not manager-Dick. "You just need to talk to him."

"He won't let me!" Jason only tried one time after the incident; he cornered Tim by the ball pit and tried to apologise, but a concerned parent interrupted, wanting to discuss the cleanliness of the arcade games, and Tim pushed them onto Jason, managing to escape both the apology and the inquisition. It had taken all of Jason's courage to try that, and he figures Tim isn't interested in hearing him out, so he's given up.

Dick moves closer, leaning his forearms on the counter (smudging the glass) and lowers his voice. "Jason, do you have a problem with how Tim is dressing now?"

"No!" He doesn't, he really doesn't (except that it makes his life harder because now Tim is even more enchanting, but he doesn't need to be telling that to Dick).

"Okay." Dick gives a sharp nod and straightens, shifting back into manager mode. "Well, try talking to him again. Tell him, show him, sing a song, whatever gets the two of you fixed and working hard again."

"Right," Jason sighs dejectedly. It's so simple when Dick says it, but it's not, really.

"Good. And the last thirty minutes count as your break for today." Dick starts to walk away and Jason grabs a plastic toy soldier and chucks it at Dick's retreating back. It bounces off harmlessly but breaks when it hits the floor, and Dick calls out over his shoulder, "That's coming out of your paycheck!"

Mumbling curses, Jason gets to sorting out the bouncy balls and sparkly pens and RC cars and dolls, all the while daydreaming about talking to Tim and being friends again. Every few minutes his heart drops when he remembers that won't happen.

A while later he's fixing up the display of cheap jewelery and fluffy hair bands and… bows. Ribbon bows with little clips on the back.

Jason pauses. Stares at one of the bows that has silver stars on a black background and it makes him think of Tim.

And then he has an idea and it shoots adrenaline through him, nerves and apprehension, but also hope.

Jason watches from where he's ducked behind a Whack-A-Mole game as Tim opens the gift bag and pulls out a dark green dress with daisies along the hem. He holds it up, looks it over, and when he smiles Jason feels his heart flutter violently and his smile matches Tim's. He stays long enough to see Tim carefully pack the dress back into the bag and turn to finish his inspection of the play area. Jason runs back to the ticket redemption counter and tries to act calm and like he's been there the whole time and he doesn't know about anything unusual, it's just a normal Thursday morning and all is well. He can see Tim finishing his rounds, bag in hand, then slipping into the restroom. When he emerges again he's wearing the new dress and Jason does a discreet little fist bump.

He's been leaving presents for Tim all week. It's Tim's job to check the play area before the arcade opens, to make sure it's clean and ready, so Jason has been placing them around the main floor, on top of games and tables. The first one was the bow with the stars. Jason had played some games to win enough tickets for it and quickly realised any further presents should be purchased elsewhere, as the amount he spent on tokens to play the games was far more than the actual price of a hair bow. Tim had been surprised to find that first bag, and confused when he opened it, and then he read his name written on the tag and… Honestly, Jason had expected Tim to blush and smile, or something along those lines. Instead he'd been suspicious, inspecting the bow carefully like he expected to find some nefarious device hidden in it. When he deemed it safe he did pin it into his hair, albeit with some reluctance, and gave everyone searching looks the rest of the day, though he did seem pleased with it. The next day when he found a scarf he hesitated again, looked it over before wrapping it around his neck. Yesterday he had pulled out a blue and white polka dot skirt and then he finally did smile, and went to change before he even finished his work.

Jason is wiping the glass counter, getting a nice, streak-free shine when Stephanie saunters up. "Have you seen him yet?"

"Who?" Jason asks innocently.

The look Stephanie gives clearly says she knows that he knows, but she'll humor him. "Tim. He's got on a darling new dress."

"Oh, yeah?" Jason's voice is about an octave too high and he can feel himself going red. He redoubles his glass shining efforts.

Stephanie grins. "Looks hot. His secret admirer did a great job."

"Oh. Well, good for him. Tim, I mean. Good for Tim."

"Personally, I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

At that Jason looks up. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow. Because, you know, there'll be another present tomorrow, right? There's been one every day."

And if there isn't, Tim will know. He'll know it was Jason leaving the presents because Friday is Jason's day off, and he won't be there and it won't be hard at all for Tim to figure that one out.

Well, shit.

Jason is not ready for Tim to know. He wants to keep giving things to Tim but if Tim found out they're from Jason, he wouldn't wear them. Jason wouldn't get to see the way Tim gets happy over each bag, the way he wears his presents proudly. He can't handle what Tim would look like rejecting what Jason tried to give him.

There needs to be a present here tomorrow morning or the jig is up. He could get someone else to leave it for him, Dick or Roy or even Stephanie. They clearly all know that Jason is the "secret admirer", as evidenced by the sly, knowing smiles they send his way, like the one Stephanie is sporting right now. But he doesn't want to involve anyone else right now. It's… personal. It's between him and Tim, even if Tim doesn't actually know that.

He could also ask to cover someone's shift tomorrow, but that might be suspicious.

So, there's only one option.

Jason sneaks into the arcade as quietly as he can early the next morning, slipping through the door and tip-toeing over to the Dance Dance Revolution. There shouldn't be anyone around except for Bruce who starts his ownership duties in his office half an hour before the rest of the staff comes in. It's quiet inside, and not all of the lights are on yet. Jason sets the gift bag on the platform and turns around-

And nearly runs right into Tim.

Tim, who is looking at him, down to the bag, and back again, face going hard and eyes narrowing. Jason freezes, barely tempting to breathe.

"It was you." There's a touch of disappointment under the anger in that statement and Jason wants to run away or cry or. Quit and never show his face here again. That's definitely the new plan.

He nods, fighting down the part of him that wants to yell. Because Jason Todd gets defensive when he's hurt, says stupid things he doesn't mean, and saying something stupid he didn't mean was what got him into this in the first place.

Tim's anger is growing by the second, he's seething when he says, "So this is some sick joke to you?"

"No," Jason answers, and then pauses, confused. "What? A joke?"

"I know how you feel about this, about me, so why else would you be buying this shit for me? Is it funny to you, to see me dressed up like this? Is it funny to make me think someone actually liked it?" By the end Tim is yelling, and Jason hopes Bruce doesn't come out to check what the commotion is, hopes no one else shows up for their shift. Hopes he can make sense of what Tim is saying because he had expected rejection, but not… Not for the reason Tim is yelling about.

"That's not it at all," Jason tries.

Tim scoffs. "Oh, really? Then why would you do all of this?"

"Because- because I like it. I like you, I mean. Wearing this stuff." The words rip themselves out of Jason, he didn't even want to say them. He wasn't ready to confess, but anything to make Tim stop thinking that way, stop looking at him like that, so hurt and disgusted. And he really does love it, the tropical print dress Tim has on today. It's got hibiscus flowers and pineapples and palm trees. It's delicious.

"Bullshit," Tim growls. "I can tell by the way you look at me. And, in case you've forgotten, what you said the first day I showed up in a dress."

Jason's chest collapses in on itself, crushed by the guilt, being reminded of what he'd said. "I didn't mean it, okay? I'm sorry, Tim."

For a minute Tim stares at him, hard. Then seems to come to some decision and takes a step closer. "Okay. You say you like it?"

Jason hesitates, not knowing what angle Tim is working, but goes for honesty. "Yeah, I do."

"So you wouldn't mind this, then?" And Tim moves even closer, nearly touching his chest to Jason's, face tilted up toward his. Which is every dream come true, or it should be. It should be wonderful, to have Tim so close, to feel his heat, to smell his hair. But it's wrong. This, the way it's happening, isn't what Jason's hoped for. Tim still is angry, and Jason's not sure exactly what he means by this but he doesn't want it.

"Tim, what are you doing?"

"Just giving you what you want." Tim reaches up, touches Jason's arms and slides his hands up to his shoulders, his neck. "You say you like me in dresses? Here I am."

"No." Gently, Jason takes Tim's hands away and steps back.

"I knew it. I knew you were lying," Tim says bitterly.

"I'm not, I just don't want-"

"I know you don't want it," Tim shouts. "No one would!"

Those words snap something inside Jason, in an instant he's on fire and he's unstoppable and he is going to prove to Tim that isn't true. He moves forward and leans down, catches Tim's face with one hand and his waist with the other, and kisses him. It's rushed, and unexpected, and Tim doesn't react. It's not the way Jason imagined it, it's not perfect. It's dry and awkward. But it's marvelous.

He only stays for a few seconds before pulling away and letting go, despite the urge to do it again and not ever stop.

Tim stares up at him, unblinking. He whispers, "What the fuck."

"Sorry," Jason mumbles, and part of him isn't sorry, because he's wanted that for a long time, but the rest of him is sorry to have done that without Tim's explicit consent. But Tim was shouting, and hurting, and Jason didn't know what else to do. And Tim is significantly less angry now so that's a win.

"You…" Tim pauses, clears his throat. "So you actually do like it?"

"I like you." Jason wishes he had had this kind of courage two weeks ago, but then this isn't really courage. More like, the last words of a dying man. It doesn't matter what he says now, it's all over, so may as well get it all out. "I liked you before, and then I liked the dresses. Love them."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Suddenly Tim is angry again. "What the fuck, Jason?"

"What?"

"You couldn't just tell me? You had me thinking you hated me, and it really sucked because we were friends and then- then I thought you were this awful bigot that wouldn't accept me."

"What did you want me to do? You wouldn't hear me out when I tried to apologise." Jason finds himself yelling back, and the reasonable part of his brain is urging him to calm down and think before he speaks. But he doesn't. "And really, what would you have done if I just came up to you, out of nowhere, and said, hey, Tim, you look sexy in that skirt and I want to be under it."

And. Well. That's more than he wanted to say. More than he was even conscious of; he'd think about talking to Tim, going out to a movie or the park, whatever Tim wanted. They'd walk and maybe hold hands. Jason never considered what could happen past that, he didn't realise what he might want. But the words have been said and now he's picturing just that: himself on his knees in front of Tim, his head and shoulders ducked underneath the skirt of Tim's dress. His hands running up Tim's legs, feeling the fine hair there. His mouth working at Tim's cock.

It's such a sudden, powerful image that Jason stumbles back a step, covering his flushed face with his hands.

There's a heavy silence in which Jason fights to internalise his distress before Tim says, "I probably wouldn't have believed you."

"No shit," Jason mumbles, lowering his hands. He can't quite look at Tim, images of skin and curves and heat and fabric roiling around in his mind, conjuring up a plethora of new things for him to contemplate.

"But I believe you now." Tim's cheeks are pink, Jason sees when he finally brings himself to peek up at him, but he's regarding Jason straight on.

"And is that… Is it okay?"

Tim grins. "Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

Tim is sitting on the glass of the ticket redemption counter with Jason standing in front of him, nestled between his thighs. Jason slides his hand up, under the skirt he had bought for Tim over the weekend. He'd taken Tim with him that time, and got to watch as Tim shopped, defiant to the glances shot his way, smirking at scandalized shoppers. Jason even got to hold his hand.

And now they're kissing, and Jason is touching Tim's leg. Tim's lips are soft and his nails scratch the back of Jason's neck, making him hum contentedly. This kiss, if just for Tim's reciprocation, is far better than their first. Just as good as their second, and third, and all of the kisses they've shared in the last few days. And the most of Jason that's been under Tim's skirt is his hand, with mostly innocent little touches, but that's okay. Jason still can't believe he gets to do this at all, and he plans on taking his time and enjoying every little bit of Tim.

But maybe not at work, he reminds himself, as there is the sound of someone pointedly clearing their throat. Reluctantly Jason pulls away from Tim, and glances up to see Bruce standing nearby, arms crossed.

"We open in four minutes. I'm sure there's something the two of you could be doing in that time." To Jason's mortification Tim grins, and Bruce sighs, "Something productive. Like wiping down that glass you're smudging."

"Yes, sir," Tim says seriously, but he doesn't make any move away from Jason, who tries to step back but is trapped by Tim's arms around his shoulders.

Bruce turns to stalk back to his office, but not before Jason catches a glimpse of a smile.

Hands grab Jason's face and turn his attention back to the boy in front of him. He's being kissed again then, and he can hear Dick and Stephanie chatting a few feet away, and Roy unlocking the main doors, and the music that drives him mad starts to play over the sound system. He holds Tim by the waist and kisses him back, and they really ought to stop and get to work, but he wants to stay here for a minute longer, or two.

Jason runs his fingertips over the soft fabric of Tim's dress, and he smiles.