Texts From Gotham
A Word: Ibid.
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(727): Lemme put it this way babe, at point you were naked in Target.
(813): Where were you?
(727): Laughing
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"I swear," Tim groans from his rather comfortable gargoyle hunch over the toilet, "if there's video of that anywhereI will end you."
Jason laughs because he's a terrible person and Tim really doesn't know why he's dating the asshole. "Sure you will, babe."
"End you, Todd," Tim repeats firmly because yelling right now is going to trigger more throwing up, and while that will only do him good in the long run his stomach and chest are starting to hurt. He wants to rest the muscles there some before he finishes expelling all the toxic alcohol in his stomach. "Ending someone is very different from killing them. They live for one."
"A very distinct and crucial difference," Jason says as he comes in with the smirk that makes Bruce brace himself on a completely unconscious reflex these days. He's also carrying a bottle of blue Gatorade and Tim feels immediately more forgiving. Especially when he presses the chilled bottle to the back of his neck.
"It is," Tim's eyes slide shut and the cold settles something in his stomach. "More life ruining, less life ending."
"Task accomplished," Tim can't see him right now but the tone of his voice lets him know Jason's wearing that incredibly doofy smile the whole family never tells him about because then he'd never smile like it again. "You've already ruined me for life."
"Stop that, we have rules, Jason," Tim groans but doesn't pull away from the bottle or the radiating warmth of Jason's body crouched down behind him. "No romantic stuff while I'm feeling sick or you've been an asshole."
Lips smack against his forehead with a loud and obnoxious noise and Jason's laughing again. "Roger that freak-boy. Now take this bottle and finish up in here. I've got to follow up with Babs on the security footage from the store."
"Hate you so much," Tim groans as he clutches the bottle when Jason runs out on him. Still laughing. "You're an asshole!"
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