When Tim woke up the next morning, his head was throbbing as if someone had repeatedly smashed him headfirst into a wall. He filled a glass of water from the jug placed on his bedside table, downing it one gulp and refilling it to drink that as well.
He realized that he was probably hungover from last night. He didn't remember much except for the fact that he had nicked a bottle of bourbon and finished it.
Rubbing his head he headed to the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water. He had never been hungover before so it seemed twice more terrible to him and he couldn't imagine how Richard and Jason could so easily put up with it all the time.
After a long soothing bath that relaxed his nerves a lot, he emerged changing into his usual clothing. He was drying his head off with a towel when he passed the mirror and stopped immediately.
At first he thought it was a a trick of the light, but when he wiped off the mist on the glass with his palm, his reflection became clearer and he almost passed out in shock.
"Shit, shit, shit," he rushed out to his room, fumbling for his glasses because he couldn't be certain about anything he saw without his specs.
But the reflection was just the same which had shocked him terribly at the first time. A trail of hickeys was prominently visible on his neck, the bluish red marks contrasting vividly with his otherwise pale skin.
For a few minutes he stood there in shock, fingers gently tracing the marks on his neck as if trying to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't comprehend how he could have gotten so drunk to end up in such a situation and also not remember anything about it.
However, he didn't want to leave for work without breakfast, so he quickly took off his shirt. Because he knew very well that if he wore that to work, he would not hear the end of it from his colleagues.
But unfortunately for him, he had no such shirts that could help in covering up his neck. The only outfit that would cover it all up nicely was his Red Robin suit but that could definitely not be worn to work.
"Fuck," he swore a little louder that he usually would, "I'm screwed."
A knock upon his door shook him out of his misery so he stood up to answer it. Jason was waiting outside much to his surprise.
"Oh my, Babybird," he whistled seeing Tim like that, "someone's looking a hot mess today. If only Dick could see you like that... He'd have to pay me fifty bucks and that's a given."
"What do you want?" Tim asked wearily.
"Its a matter of what you want rather than the other way round," he threw a turtleneck shirt at him to catch, "figured it would come in handy.
Tim didn't bother to ask him how he knew because that would only give Jay more reason to gloat at him. However he appreciated his gesture as he put on the shirt immediately.
"It's a little baggy on the shoulders but I don't think that would be too noticeable. Other than that it fits," Jay remarked, keenly checking him over to make sure that he looked okay, "you're lucky I still kept this one because the rest of my shirts would definitely be way too large on you."
"And how old is it, judging by the size?" Tim adjusted the turtleneck so that it went all the way up to his neck.
"It's from those days when I was into skin tight clothing. Not very old but very revealing in my case. That's the only reason it almost fits you."
"Thanks, Jay."
"And I might have some leather trousers that don't fit me anymore since those are from the same days as this turtleneck beauty, so if you're willing..."
But he politely refused, "you know I don't do leather. Not my type."
"You'd look good in them, come on now let me show you," Jay tried to drag Tim out but he grabbed the door frame in order to resist him.
"That's really considerate of you but I'm running late already and if I go with you to your closet now, I'll have to miss breakfast."
He shrugged nonchalantly, "okay then, your loss."
He walked off to the staircase to head downstairs for breakfast so Tim followed as well.
However, glancing at the grandfather clock in the dining room, he realized that he would get late if he stayed so he quickly grabbed two slices of toast, placed some omelette in between and rushed out so that he wouldn't miss the bus.
"Was that your shirt?" Richard remarked as he passed Jay a glass of juice.
"What shirt?"
"The one Tim was wearing, I'm sure it used to be yours."
Jason shrugged, "so what? I told him he could borrow it anytime. Besides it doesn't even fit me anymore."
He rose an eyebrow skeptically "Tim doesn't wear turtlenecks, it's suffocating to him."
"Well, people change, Dickybird. Look at you, did you not grow out of your Discowing costume?"
"I get your point, no need to elaborate."
"Though I must say it was an absolute shocker. I still can't believe that Bruce let you wear such an atrocity on patrol."
"Hey," he looked rather offended, "it was not an atrocity, it was a complete fashion statement."
"Lay off him, Todd," Damian spoke up, "it was his first attempt at designing a suit so I don't think he should be blamed really."
Richard looked at him with an adoring smile on his face, "that's my Dami. I'm so proud of you."
Jason shrugged, "but do you remember your first time, BabyBat? The hood, pants and boots actually improved the Robin suit."
A smirk danced on his face and his green eyes sparked in amusement, "well, I'm the son of Batman. Of course I would never screw anything up, be it my first attempt or last."
"He's literally a mini Bruce," Jay shuddered, taking his plate to the kitchen as he had finished.
"Though I'm pretty sure Tim would have a lot to say about all the times you might have screwed up," Richard mumbled.
Damian must have heard him for he glared at him, "I'm warning you, Grayson; do not bring Drake into this. Or else I will never take your side again if you and Todd ever have an argument."
"Easy there, Dami, I was just making a relevant point."
"And I don't care about your point since anything with Drake in it is completely irrelevant."
***
Irina Luthor was stuck in a dilemma for probably the first time in her life. She feared that she was catching feelings for her damsel in distress.
Not even in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that saving Tim from a suicide attempt would end up in kissing him breathless. She had just succumbed to the moment back then but as a few days had passed, she felt as if she had messed everything up.
At work she had observed that Tim had been slightly flustered, probably suffocating due to the turtleneck he had to wear to disguise the lovebites on his neck and she couldn't help but feel as if she had been unfair to him.
He hadn't been fully sober back then and she wasn't even sure whether he had actually meant what he had texted her that night or it was all just spurred on under the influence of alcohol.
So in order to push off the weight from herself, she sent him a text: You do understand that I hadn't taken advantage of you, right?
A few minutes later, his reply came: what? When?
At New Year's Eve.
There was a short pause, as if he was probably typing then erasing again and again, but finally he replied. Out of all the times I could have been drunk and I chose that one... Such a shame.
You mean you don't remember...? Okay then, good night. If he didn't remember then that solved everything for her altogether, there was no need for her to feel awkward.
Her phone's screen lit up rather immediately with a reply: Was I a bad kisser?
A smile flickered on her face, recalling that night. No, you were actually one of the best I've ever had.
But soon as she had sent the text, she quickly deleted it.
Though it seemed as if he had seen it for he replied: Next time if you do take advantage of me, make sure I'm at least sober enough to remember it.
She was a bit taken aback for she hadn't expected to reply in such a way, though her smile widened as she texted back: I said I hadn't taken advantage of you, Timothy!
***