Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. ._. It's probably my only one for today. Thanks to everyone who reviews. And to everyone who likes Damian's wittle crush on Tim. (I meant to say BIG CRUSH. Sorry.)
Two months and one day. Jason had started dating Tim two months and one day from today. (Bet no one knows that Jason keeps count of that. Hell, Jason is surprised at himself for knowing.) He likes that he knows exactly when he started dating Tim.
And it had been an arbitrary "dating." Going out to eat after patrols, lounging around each other's apartment, nothing official.
(Until, of course, "Are we together, Jason?" "Do you want to be?" "Do you want to be?" "Yeah." "Yes." "Then it looks like we're together.")
It has been three weeks and six days since Tim went blind (or, rather, since he had his eyesight stolen from him. That motherfucker is dead.) Three weeks and six days Jason has been tearing himself up on the inside (and thus making Tim miserable in the process, way to fucking go, Jason).
He can't stop thinking about it. That night. (First real date, after one month of arbitrarily dating.) Tim's hiss as the acid attacks his eyes. His declaration of I can't see, I can't see—
He can't stop thinking about it, even as he sheds his boots and gets in bed to start reading to Tim.
Tonight, Tim is sitting up, legs crossed, leaving space enough for Jason. It is odd that he is sitting up. When Jason gets settles into his place, Tim reaches for him, his fingers skimming across Jason's face.
"Tim, what are you—"
"Shh." Tim's thumbs are on his lips. "I'm looking at your face." His thumbs run across Jason's lips. "Stop frowning, your skin will wrinkle." His fingers move up his cheeks. Jason closes his eyes and Tim's fingers dance across his eyelids and smooth out the frown lines that are probably marring his forehead.
"Do I still look good, Babybird?"
Tim tugs on his cheek. "Of course. But stop frowning." As Tim takes his face in both hands, Jason opens his eyes. Tim's own chalky eyes are boring into his. "Jason?"
"Mm?"
"I love you."
Jason sputters.
"What?" Tim sounds like he's on the verge of being offended. Or hurt.
"Nothing. Just. Fuck you." Tim's eyebrows go up. "No, wait. I mean. Fuck you, because I wanted to be the one to say it first." And in that second, Jason isn't thinking about Tim's accident, or the result. He's leaning forward to catch Tim's lips and hold them. Then he whispers against Tim's lips, "I love you too. Overachiever."
Tim smiles. (It's fucking beautiful.)
And now Jason has another date to keep track of.