Sleepover

"Tim?" Jason asked. He had walked into one of the Manor's ( sometimes he like to crash there, alright? ) TV rooms to watch his favorite guilty pleasure, the Vicki Vale Show . But when he got there, box of crackers in hand, he found that someone else was in there. Tim was dead asleep on the couch.

He was actually more on the floor than the couch, like he had slowly slid forwards off of it. It made Jason nervous, but not nervous enough to go wake Bruce, Alfred,or any members of the child army. This had happened before. Tim, the workaholic that he was, had fallen asleep randomly all the time. So instead of screaming and waking up everyone like Dick would, he calmly pick up Tim bridal-style and made his way to the kid's room.

Tim was really, really light. He knew that the kid was probably (most definitely) underweight from skipping meals. Dami had texted him about how, ever since the Titans broke up, Tim had submerged himself into cold cases, probably so he didn't have to think about how much he missed his friends. He got so absorbed that he never ate, even when Alfred went and put a plate of food right next to him on his desk. Even though he didn't act like it, Dami had gotten concerned, which was cute because usually Dami only ever cared about B and Dick.

As Jason opened Tim's door, the kid squirmed and latched onto his neck. Jason went to lay him down on his absolutely enormous bed, but Tim had him in a deathgrip. He tried multiple times to get loose, but Tim's grip wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, c'mon Babybird. Let go. I'm missing my show." He kept trying but Tim absolutely refused to let go. It was supremely annoying. "Ugh, Fine."

So Jason, after undressing himself and Tim, got into the bed with him, pulling the fluffy duvet over them. Even though this was completely innocent, Jason still blushed a little. It wasn't like Jason hadn't thought about being in Tim's bed before, even though it was in a completely different sense. Before past fantasies could fill his brain, he grabbed for the remote for Tim's ginormous hi-tech TV. Living with a billionaire does have it's perks, if he remembers correctly.  He wondered if his room looked like this or if it was the same as it was 5 years ago. Nah, Alfred probably kept it how it was.

Jason changed the channel on the huge TV. It had gone to commercial. Jason groaned. He had missed the first 15 minutes. Now he had no idea what the show was going to be about or who Vicki's guests would be. As if Tim sensed his distress, the kid started cuddling with him.

Jason wasn't going to deny it; he was enjoying it. So he put his arm around Tim's shoulders and watched the TV. Tim put his head on Jason's chest. Damn, Jason was staring to feel tired. Before he knew it, he was closing his eyes....

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A weird, repeating noise cut through his dream of beating Betty White at checkers. It was getting louder and louder until it was all he could hear. He cracked open an eyelid. He was in a large bedroom. Shit, he was at the Manor. And he was cuddling Tim. And Dick was at Tim's door with Stephanie, laughing their heads off. And taking pictures. Shit!

He tried to get out of the bed, hitting Tim in the head with his shoulder in the process. As Dick and Steph ran off, Tim's head jolted up, his long-ass hair flopping everywhere. He looked around, probably confused. Jason was just still, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Why are you in my bed?" Tim asked, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep. He squinted his eyes, like he was trying really hard to concentrate. He almost forgot, Tim doesn't understand shit in the morning unless he has, like, four cups of coffee.

"Uh.... I, Um," Jason stammered. He could feel himself blushing. "I was, um, cuddling with you?"

Tim stopped squinting. "Oh. Uh, okay."