Surprisingly enough, Ivy didn't like getting fruit baskets as thank yous. Jason'd have to find something else to send her.

ne dislocated shoulder and two minor intergalactic incidents later, and all Tim wants is a shower, a mushroom and swiss cheeseburger, and a blowjob, preferably in that order.

“If you shower my couch with love and affection, I might actually kill you.” Or: how Tim Drake buys a house, rebuilds his life, and accidentally falls in love.

Tim has a thing for buying sex toys (in bulk, Jason suspects) and Jason is constantly putting his foot in his mouth about what things his lover likes.

In which the Robins aren’t so good at keeping their sexualities a secret, not that most of them would want to anyway. Or How each of the Robins accidentally came out and made a club to commiserate together.

"Timmers sucked me pregnant," Jason blurts, and Tim watches in morbid fascination as Bruce goes through the five stages of grief in a millisecond. "I thought you said you weren't… sleeping together," Bruce says reproachfully. "He means that I, uh, impregnated him with my teeth. When I drank his blood. No sex involved," Tim explains. "It was an accident. I didn't even know I could do that."

All in all, their arrangement lasts for a few months. Months of filthy fucks, cutting words, and hasty walks of shame. Months without Tim letting Jason kiss him once. Months of Jason staring at the ceiling in soiled, cooling sheets after Tim's departure, gut-wrenching loneliness and self-loathing burning in his chest. Until one day, the dam breaks.

“Why are there reporters-” Dick stopped. His eyes locked on the TV. “Oh, look at that Drake- you’re trending on social media.” Damian offered far too coolly to be any form of casual. XxX In which Tim's nudes get leaked online and he is surprisingly casual about it

"Tim?" Jason asks cautiously. It's possibly the first time he has ever used his replacement's first name. Out loud at least. Or where he could hear him. Another whine and the big black dog opens an eye, gazing warily up at Jason. "Okay, you're awake. Not exactly sure what the protocol is here but if you know you're Tim Drake, whine twice for me."

The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.