12 Days of Jaytim
Food Isn't Shampoo
"Did you know that eggs are a natural conditioner?" Tim asked as he studied one before cracking it open and pouring the contents into a large bowl. Jason grimaced at him from the idea of putting an egg in your hair.
"You are not using an egg as a shampoo," he huffed at him. Tim's hair was soft and silky as it was, and it smelled nice. No yolks were needed.
"But I already do," he said with an arched brow. And Jason nearly spewed his drink because he kisses the top of Tim's head every day.
"Ew, Tim. Ew. How can I ever eat eggs again? Don't they scramble in your hair? Ugh."
"Not if you don't take a hot shower. And I only have to wash my hair twice a week," he said with a shrug as he dumped the cake mix into the bowl because it was easier than making it from scratch.
Jason wrinkled his nose. "Damn it, Tim. You've made me lose my appetite."
"Boohoo," he drawled before he asked Jason to hand him the mixer. "You'll get it back somehow. Kinda counting on it."
"And why's that?" he huffed, but he was already behind Tim, hands lightly gripping the younger man's arms.
"Because you'll want to lick the spoon. And bowl. And the entire mixer," he said with a fond smile. His smile widened when Jason hummed in agreement, and when he just pressed kisses to his neck. Completely ignoring his hair. "Such a child," he huffed and poked him with the end of a wooden spoon. Jason just chuckled at him and wrapped his arms around his waist.
"Hey, can you were nothing but an apron?" he asked out of the blue with a smirk.
"What?" Tim squeaked in surprise, spluttering because why would he ask that? Oh yeah, it's Jason. "No, Jason. I'm not Dick." Jason whined at him.
"But it would suit you," he huffed. "I mean, you baking is like a wet dream. Make some bread and it'd be heaven." Tim's definitely not telling Jason he was going to make some loaves later. Otherwise Jason just might screw him over the counter, and he's a little busy making mud balls right at the moment. Jason could find out later.
"Go melt the chocolate," he ordered, poking him some more with the spoon, and the man just grumbled before he went over to the bowl of chocolate melts.
"Jerk," he grumbled lamely.
He definitely wasn't saying that later on in the day though. Tim couldn't even look at a loaf of bread now without squirming a bit with reddened cheeks. Later after, he dropped off the mud balls, that he had strategically decorated as little Batmans, in Dick's room at the manor, tagging it from Damian. That's what the brat gets for dying his clothes pink. The things your brothers (and teammates and ex-girlfriends and every goddamn person in the world) will say and do to you when the majority of your wardrobe is now pink.
He'd say they're even for now.