jayeinacross

Summary: Five 153-word fics with various parings, one fic to each pairing.
Rating, warnings: G to PG-13. Mostly implied sexual references, but otherwise harmless.
Pairngs: Clark/Tim, Dick/Tim, Bruce/Tim, Damian/Tim and Jason/Tim.
A/N: My friend challenged me to write a series of fics all exactly 153 words long. Ava wanted Tim/everyone. And they may be two weeks late, but here are my obligatory Valentine’s Day fics.

***

Clark/Tim

When Superman lands on a roof in Gotham across from where the dynamic duo of Gotham are perched on a couple of gargoyles, Robin can see Batman tense up, and can practically hear him grinding his teeth. Robin rolls his eyes, then hopes that Batman didn’t notice.

From the way that Batman’s jaw tightens, Robin’s pretty sure he noticed.

Despite this, Batman jerks his head toward where Superman is standing. "Go on, Robin."

"Really?" Tim grins at his mentor. Batman nods, and that’s all the persuading that Tim needs. He’s swinging off before Bruce can say another word.

"Clark," is all that Tim can get out, before the other man lifts him off the ground with one arm around his waist and kisses him. When they’re done, Clark produces a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, presenting them to Tim with a shy smile.

A few rooftops away, Bruce rolls his eyes.

***

Dick/Tim

"I’m sorry I couldn’t take you out to dinner tonight," Nightwing laments, before kicking the burglar who’s giving him a confused look in the gut.

"I told you, it’s fine," Robin replies, stopping another thug from running away by sending a batarang thudding into the back of his head.

"I know it’s okay with you." Nightwing is practically whining by now. "I just really wanted tonight to be special."

"Any night can be special." Robin knocks the last thug out with a punch in the face. "Just because we run around Gotham fighting crime every other night doesn’t mean this one can’t be special."

"You’re right," Dick says, grabbing Tim by the wrist and pulling him into his arms. He grins. "As usual."

"Dick..." Tim glances around.

"They’re all unconscious," Dick says dismissively. "C’mere."

Dick kisses Tim in the middle of the store, and Tim can only hope nobody checks the security cameras.

***

Bruce/Tim

Patrol is on the shorter end of the scale tonight, which is Tim’s first clue. Bruce is also a lot harder on the criminals, which could be a sign of nervousness. Or it could just be him making up for a shorter patrol.

Alfred comes to Tim after he’s showered and informs him that Bruce is waiting for him in the dining room. By this time, being trained by the world’s greatest detective isn’t really necessary to figure out what’s going on.

Bruce is waiting at the door with a rose in hand, and led him to the circular two-person table in the middle of the room, Martha Wayne’s best tablecloth draped over it (how he’d gotten the huge dining-room table out of the room, Tim had no idea).

Tim takes the rose, and Bruce pulls out his chair for him. He’s not a bimbo socialite, but it’s nice that Bruce is trying.

***

Damian/Tim

Crouching on a Gotham rooftop in the freezing cold on stakeout duty isn’t Tim’s idea of the perfect Valentine’s Day date, but he’ll take what he can get. At least they’re alone (well, silencing their comms is about as alone as they can get right now).

When Tim looks over, Damian’s disappeared. He’s getting almost as good as Bruce at that. Probably needed to stretch his legs – Damian hates stakeout duty most out of all of them (except for maybe Dick); he’s never had the patience for it.

But in a few minutes, there’s a steaming Styrofoam cup of Tim’s favourite coffee in front of his face, and when he looks up, Damian is standing there, the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

Tim takes the coffee gratefully, but sets it down on the roof, tugging at Damian’s tunic so he can pull him down and kiss that little smile.

***

Jason/Tim

Jason's in a foul mood when he gets home. It's pouring rain, and the store manager sold the gift he'd put on hold for Tim for Valentine's Day; it's a ridiculous holiday, but he'd seen that gift and it had been perfect--

"Holy shit." When Jason opens the door, his jaw drops to the floor.

"Hi." Tim runs his tongue over his bottom lip, smirks. He's sitting in the middle of their huge bed, legs stretched out in front of him.

"Uh." Jason struggles for coherency, his gaze travelling from the red stilettos upwards, along the silk that ends mid-thigh, to the lacy panties. Tim bites his lip, crosses and uncrosses his legs. Jason's completely enthralled by the movement.

When Tim beckons, Jason moves forward immediately, kicking the door closed behind him. He still can't get out words, just climbs on top of Tim and starts mouthing his neck.

Jason loves Valentine's Day.

***