Chapter Text
Tim very rarely has a problem with patrol. Tonight is the exception. Even though it's a mostly quiet night and all the big bads are locked up in Arkham for once, there's no way tonight can be called anything remotely close to peaceful because—
“I can't believe I'm missing it.”
Yeah. That.
“I know, Jason,” Tim said into his comm. “I heard you the first 87 times.”
Which, okay, kind of a lie. What Tim really meant was he's tuned him out 87 times because, really? Look, Tim's had to miss important things for patrol before, so he kind of gets it. But the emphasis is on important. Things like the season finale of his favorite TV shows or DnD night at Titans Tower. Never—
“Do you know how rare it is to get sports that aren't football to show up in this shithole? And this is the Final, Tim. The Final. I cannot believe I'm missing this.”
Yeah. That.
Sports.
Tim shuddered.
Because, he'd been implicitly promised a certain level of jock to nerd ratio when he started dating Jason. Because while Jason looks like a fallback or a linequarter or whatever the Big Muscley Guys in the football lineup are called, he's actually a giant dork. He reads Harry Potter, cosplays, and he's even guest DM'd DnD night a few times. (Tim adores his sessions, his plots are so intricate and he never lets Bart bog down the game by seducing everything that they're supposed to fight.) Hearing Jason go on and on about sports is ruining Tim's ratios. It's so...frustrating.
“—best skater in the world and I'm missing what could be his best performance ever and—”
One of those words brought Tim out of his self-imposed mental exile.
“Wait,” he said. “Did you say skater?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Like...skateboarding?”
“Fuck no! Who watches that shit?” Tim sighed. He should have— “I'm talking about figure skating.”
Tim is very lucky he's not currently swinging from building to building, because he would surely have fallen to his death.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Jason said, with a large helping of Duh scooped into the top.
“Huh.”
Maybe the jock/nerd ratio wasn't as screwed up as he thought.
He didn't have much time to think about it though; a scream ripped through the night, drawing them both back into vigilante mode.
“Hood.”
“Got it, it came from over here.”
Tim let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can't see you, Hood. You can't just say over he—”
The sound of gunshots came from a nearby alley.
“Never mind.”
Tim fired off a line, but he knew it'd be over by the time he got there. And he was right. Jason was standing in the alley, surrounded by four thugged up guys on the ground, unmoving. There were no obvious gaping wounds, so Jason had kept his promise about using rubber bullets. Near the mouth of the alley were three men, all pale and in various degrees of shock, probably foreign tourists judging by the blond one's “Russia” jacket. Tim sighed again and let himself fall to the ground. All three tourists flinched at his sudden appearance.
“You couldn't even save one for me?” Tim complained.
“Gotta be faster, babybird.” Tim could almost see the sexy, infuriating smirk through his helmet. “Besides, if my fun gets ruined, so does yours.”
Why do I find you charming?
With a sigh, he turned to deal with the victims. Batman knows Jason would just make their trauma worse.
Okay, what do we have. Three white males...no, two white males and a...Japanese male? Yeah, that's a Japanese flag on his jacket. A Russian, a Japanese, and a...wow he's hot. A Russian, a Japanese, and a silver haired demi god walk into a bar...heh. Wow I really need sleep.
He shook himself and tried to figure out which one looked the most approachable. If they were tourists, dealing with a costumed man in the middle of a dark alley might be a new experience to them, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare civilians in front of Jason, who would laugh at Tim and then tell everyone they knew. The blond was out; he seemed to be recovering quick enough but Tim had been around Damian too long not to recognize the signs of someone about to absolutely lose their shit and overreact because other people had seen them in a vulnerable state. The Japanese man looked like Tim that time he realized his dissertation was due the next morning and he'd somehow forgotten to start it, all tense limbs and sweaty brows with his mouth opening and closing but unable to actually speak.
Okay, demi god it is.
“Hello sir. You're okay now,” Tim said, making sure to emote (which was even harder than usual in the cowl) in case they couldn't understand him. “Do you speak English?”
“Um..oh! Yes. Yes I do,” the silver haired man said in lightly accented English. His silky voice hit Tim like a freight train, and if he hadn't been stupidly, life-consumingly in love with Jason since he was ten he'd have melted into a puddle of goo and offered to have the man's babies right there.
“Of course he speaks English,” the blond one muttered in Russian. “Not everyone is an ignorant American.”
“No, some of us are just mouthy Russians,” Tim shot back in the same language. He took great pride in the shocked expressions on Blondie and Silver's faces and the fact that his accent was perfect.
Not bad for an ignorant American.
“Yura, did you hear? The demon speaks Russian!” Silver looked utterly delighted. “Say something else.”
“Um. Are you okay? Did those men hurt you?”
“What a wonderful accent! Where did you learn? Have you ever lived in Russia? Were you born there?”
“I...no, I was...” Tim clamped his mouth shut. Silver was way too disarming, he'd actually almost admitted he was born in Gotham, which was way too much information on his civilian identity to give to anyone they didn't trust. Yeah, I definitely need sleep. “Sir,” he said, doing his best to retake control of the conversation, “I need you to answer my questions.”
Silver opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Blondie (Yura?) cut him off.
“He doesn't have to answer shit. You're not a cop.”
“How do you know?” Silver asked. Both Tim and Yura stared at him in disbelief.
The Japanese man continued to shake.
“Holy shit!”
And that would be Jason, very loudly drawing attention to himself. So much for dealing with this quietly.
“Oh my god,” Jason said, sounding awed and excited and nothing like himself. “It's really you.”
He began walking quickly towards them.
Silver perked up. “Oh, you recognize me?”
He stepped around Tim, his face open and happy as he made to move towards Jason, but Jason brushed by him without a second glance and came to a stop in front of the Japanese man.
“You're Yuuri Katsuki,” Jason breathed.
And that was when the Japanese man finally found his voice.
“I LEFT MY WALLET AT THE HOTEL PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!”
Jason didn't seem to notice.
“You've won three Grand Prix Championships, two gold medals at World's, a gold at the Olympics...holy shit I can't believe I'm meeting Yuuri Katsuki.”
Jason let out a tiny squee. It was both endearing and annoying, because they'd once met Mark Hamill at Comic Con and Jason hadn't squeed then and how the heck can someone freak out about some Japanese Olympian but not the actual Luke freaking Skywalker?
“You're a fan of my Yuuri?” Silver asked.
Jason managed to tear his eyes away from Yuuri long enough to look at him. The shadows of the alley fell on his helmet in a way that made it seem like there was a face giving Silver an incredulous glare.
“Of course! He's the best figure skater in the world.”
Tim would swear for the rest of his life that actual sparkles and hearts hovered around Silver as he squealed. “I know! Isn't he perfect? He's so beautiful and talented and have you seen the way he looks in his skating outfits?”
“Hell yeah.” Tim frowned. He was not getting jealous over a figure skater. “My whole sexual awakening as a kid revolved around his thighs.”
I will end his life.
“Ew!” Yura snarled. “Fucking gross, you old pervert!”
Yuuri squeaked. “Don't antagonize him!”
Everyone ignored him.
“Shut up, Ice Twink of Russia, we're the same age.”
“What the fuck did you call me you masked asshole!”
“Oh! You know Yurio too?” Silver asked.
“That's not my fucking name.”
“Do you know me, then?” Silver asked.
“What? Oh, yeah. You're Yuuri's coach. Victor Knifeoff, right?”
Victor's mouth dropped open as Yura (Yurio?) burst out laughing.
“Shit! This is the best day ever. Katsudon has a fan that has no idea who you are. How does that feel, old man?”
“You...really don't know my name?” Victor(?) asked.
“How can he know me but not Victor?” Yuuri's voice was so small Tim wasn't even sure he was aware he was speaking out loud.
“Nah, I'm just fucking with you,” Jason said. “It's impossible to follow skating and not know who you are. Yuuri's better, though, no offense.”
Victor was instantly all smiles. “Why would I be offended? Yuuri is amazing!”
“Oh, gag. Why the hell did you stop those guys from shooting him?” Yurio glared at Victor and Jason, who were talking over each other gushing about how great Yuuri was while the man in question turned a shade of red Tim didn't even think was possible on a human. “Or me. Shoot me instead, I can't deal with this shit anymore.”
Tim felt deep and unrelenting kinship with Yurio.
“So, are you a figure skater too?” Tim asked.
“What?” Yurio spun around, snarling. “How the hell can you not know who I am!?”
“I don't watch skating.” He didn't know if it was his answer or his deadpan, unconcerned delivery, but Yurio instantly deflated.
“Oh.”
“Sorry?”
“No. Whatever. Don't fucking...ugh.”
Tim was confused. “Did you...want me to be a fan?”
“No!” Yurio blustered. “It's just...it'd be kinda cool, you know. If you watched us skate.”
“Do you know who we are?”
“Duh.” Yurio rolled his eyes. “The Pig looked up a bunch of stuff about Gotham when we found out the GPF was gonna be here, you're all over the tourist stuff.”
“R-really?”
Wow, Tim had no idea Gotham thought so highly of Red Robin. He smiled softly. It was amazing that his city was finally embracing him—
Yurio snorted. “I never thought Batman would be so modest. Or so short.”
Now it was Tim's turn to deflate. “Oh.” He sighed. “I'm not—”
“So, what do I call you?” Victor asked, loudly, apparently done gushing with Jason. “I can't just call you Red Helmet and Cape Boy, right?”
“Oi! You idiot! How can you not know who they are?” Yurio yelled.
Victor frowned. The expression seemed somehow wrong on his face. “You mean you do?”
“Of course!” Yurio crossed his arms. “They're Batman and Robin!”
Tim tensed. Jason had come a long way from the days when he wanted to kill Bruce and maim Tim. It took a lot of time and effort and Pit detoxing, but these days it wasn't uncommon to see him show up for dinner at the manor and even have entire conversations with Bruce where neither of them looked constipated and no one reached for a weapon. (And that's not even getting into how much better things were between him and Tim. So much better. Mmmm. Tim could now say he knew what it felt like to have his entire body licked by Jason Todd, which is something he'd been fantasizing about pretty much since he'd started puberty.) But there were still a few things that tended to set Jason off, and Tim had no idea how he would react to someone he'd never met before calling him Batman or Robin.
“Oh yeah?” Jason crossed his arms. “Which one is which?”
Yurio rolled his eyes. “He's Batman.” He jerked his thumb towards Tim of all people and, really, what the actual heck? “Duh.”
“Really?” Victor asked, cocking his head. “I thought Batman was supposed to be big and buff?”
He pointed a finger at Jason.
“I thought so too, but even if he's small and tiny, this one's Batman.”
And now Jason was laughing. Which, kind of the best reaction to this conversation they could hope for, but still.
“Hey, I'm only slightly below average height and weight for my age.”
Everyone ignored him.
“Are you sure?” Victor asked. “Because...”
He pointed at Jason again.
“Everyone knows Batman wears that hat-mask.” Yurio jerked his chin towards Tim's head.
“Cowl,” Tim corrected sullenly. Even with the padding in his suit this pixie could tell he was small. How depressing.
“Shut up! I know what it's called!” Yurio yelled. “And,” he glared at Tim before turning back to Victor. “That one's obsessed with the Katsudon. No one who's as smart as Batman's supposed to be would pick that as his favorite skater.”
Every word was dripping with disdain, but Yurio's body language was practically shouting the opposite.
Oh.
“You like him,” Tim said.
Yurio's whole face turned red and he started to choke. If Tim hadn't still been smarting from the “small and tiny” comments, he would have stopped there. As it was...
“And you're jealous.”
Victor winced and took a step back. Yurio went completely still for half a second.
But only half a second.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN JEALOUS HE'S A STUPID FAT PIG WHO CAN'T EVEN LAND HIS JUMPS AND I BEAT HIS ASS MY FIRST YEAR IN SENIORS—!”
“You haven't beaten him since, though,” Jason said helpfully.
“I'M GOING THROUGH PUBERTY YOU ASSHOLE I'M GROWING AND IT'S FUCKING ME UP WHEN I'M DONE WITH THIS SHIT I'M GONNA WIPE THE FUCKING FLOOR WITH HIS STUPID FACE!”
“Ah, Y-Yurio...” Yuuri's voice was small and shaky, but it was enough to draw everyone's attention. “Y-you don't have to be so down on yourself. You almost beat me tonight, and you did beat Victor.”
“My first bronze in ten years,” Victor said proudly, smiling softly at Yurio.
Oh. They all really care about each other...
Tim tried not to feel too jealous. He knew Bruce and everyone liked him...but he couldn't remember the last time anyone but Jason had been so openly supportive in front of other people.
Yurio scowled and looked away, his entire face beet red. “You shouldn't be so happy about that,” he mumbled.
“Why not?” Victor asked. “My two favorite people in the world beat me when I was giving it my all. This is one of the best nights of my life. Well, until the attempted robbery, of course.”
Yuuri's eyes went wide. “O-oh. Um. Are they...” He glanced back at the downed robbers.
“Don't worry,” Jason said. “They won't be bothering anyone ever again.”
Tim nodded. He'd scanned their faces with the lenses in his cowl, and they had all come up on the police wanted list for a wide variety of crimes, including escaping from Blackgate. The figure skaters wouldn't even have to stick around to give a statement if they didn't want to.
Yuuri paled and began to shake. Tim didn't really get why, but it had been so long since he reacted to being attacked like a normal person even he'd have to admit he had no idea how regular people acted in these kinds of situations. Still, he'd think someone as nervous as Yuuri apparently was would be happy to know his attackers would be in jail for a long time.
“So...” Jason was saying to Yuuri. “You won gold?”
Yuuri said nothing, but his slinking away from Jason was stopped when Victor wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into his side. “Yes!” he exclaimed happily. “Gold,” he squeezed Yuuri, “silver,” he pointed at Yurio, who was still refusing to look at anyone, “and bronze!” he said, pointing at himself with his thumb and grinning.
“Holy shit, that's awesome.” Jason actually bounced on the balls of his feet. “Four consecutive golds in the GPF. Two more and you'll beat his”—he jerked a thumb at Victor—“record.”
If anything, Yuuri looked more dismayed at that than he did about the robbers.
“P-please don't say that...”
“I know!” Victor said at the exact same time. “Isn't it wonderful?”
Before they could go off on another squealfest about how amazing Yuuri was, Jason uncharacteristically began to fidget with his belt buckle.
“Hey, uh....do you...could you sign my helmet?” Jason asked, self-consciously rubbing the back of that very same helmet.
Yuuri's eyes widened.
“I...I....”
“Of course he can!” Victor said. “Yuuri is always happy to meet his fans.”
Yurio snorted. “Tell that to Minami,” he muttered under his breath.
“Ohmygod,” Jason breathed. “Uh. I mean. That's cool.” It was only then he seemed to notice how close to a panic attack his favorite skater was. “I can take it off if it'd be easier for you to sign?”
He reached up to disarm it.
“N-no!” Yuuri quickly covered his eyes and turned away. “I don't want to see your face! Please don't shoot me!”
“No, it's fine I promise. I've got another one, look.”
Jason took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, nervously straightening it out.
“Oh shit, he's hot,” Yurio said softly. Tim felt equally smug and jealous.
“He's taken,” Tim said.
At the same time, Victor chimed in with “Oh look at that, there's a little mask on under the helmet. How clever.”
Jason shot Tim a knowing look. Tim rolled his eyes.
“I still say it's lame.”
Jason ignored him and turned back to Yuuri. Who, once he finally let Victor pry his hands away from his eyes, seemed...hesitant, to say the least. “Please?” Jason asked, holding his helmet out and pouting.
Yuuri stared at his lips long enough for both Victor and Tim to start frowning. “Um...okay...” He took a marker out of his pocket, which Tim thought was kind of weird. Who carries a marker around like that? Does he really go out expecting to be harassed for autographs?
It seemed a bit pretentious. But then again, he was apparently a famous athlete...
(Or as famous as a figure skater can be, Tim thought.)
Yuuri signed his name in shaky kanji.
“Oh my god,” Jason squeaked. “I can't believe Yuuri Katsuki's touching my helmet.”
Tim had to fight the urge to smack his boyfriend. “Calm down, fangirl.”
“Oh like you were any different when Mark Hamill shook your hand at that Star Trek thing.”
“That's different! And it's Star Wars not Star—” Tim paused at Jason's smirk. “You're doing that on purpose.”
“Took you long enough.”
“I hate you.”
“Don't believe you,” Jason sang.
Tim crossed his arms and pointedly refused to respond. Jason grinned.
“Thanks, man,” he said to Yuuri. “This really means a lot.”
“You're welcome...”
Jason pursed his lips, then glanced at Yurio. “Can you sign it, too?”
“Wh-what?” Yurio cleared his throat. “I thought you liked the Katsudon?”
Tim wondered how rare a display of insecurity like this was from Yurio. If he was anything like Damian, probably very.
“Fuck yeah, Yuuri's the best.” Jason shrugged. “Doesn't mean he's the only skater I like. Your Welcome to the Madness exhibition kicked ass and you were awesome at the Olympics. Besides, I got one of those Onsen on Ice posters back at my apartment and if I can't have both of you sign it getting my helmet signed is the next best thing.”
Yurio scowled when he mentioned the poster, but Tim could easily see his cheeks starting to pink again. “Fine. Gimme that.” He snatched the marker out of Yuuri's hand and signed his name in messy Cyrillic.
“Thanks,” Jason said with a grin. “Hey, is it true you named your cat Puma Tiger Scorpion?”
“You got a problem with that?”
Jason raised an eyebrow. “Hell no. That's fucking bad ass.”
“Fuck yeah it is!”
They both shared sharp grins.
“I wanted to name our fish AK-47 but Timmy wouldn't let me.”
“What? That's an awesome name for a fish!”
“Who's Timmy?” Victor asked.
Tim froze.
At this point, there was still a chance to cover Jason's slip up. All he needed to do was say “Timmy was my college roommate” or “Timmy is my step-dad” or anything that would minimize the chances of these figure skaters—or anyone who might be listening in—being able to deduce their real identities by their relationship to each other.
So of course what he did instead was look right at Tim and say “Oh, shit.”
And because Tim was already beyond out of patience with this whole night, what he said in response while pinching the bridge of his nose was, “Goddammit Jason.”
Then they stared at each other in mounting horror.
“Oh,” Victor said blithely. “Are those your secret identities?”
Tim glared at Jason and shot him his fiercest Fix This glower.
In response, Jason fired off a grappling line. “Thanks for the autographs! It was awesome meeting you, good luck at your Nationals!”
And then he was gone.
Goddammit Jason...
They all stared after Jason in varying degrees of disbelief.
“Do you think he would have wanted my autograph too?” Victor asked.
I hate my life.
Tim crossed his arms and turned to face the figure skaters. “Don't tell anyone what just happened,” he said in his best imitation Bat-growl. “If you do...I'll find you.”
He fixed them each with his most no-nonsense Red Robin glare before firing off his own line and making his escape.
Then he reported in to Bruce and totally threw Jason under the bus for revealing their identities.
Tim figured that made them even for the rest of the night.
“I can't believe we met actual superheroes! Or that we almost got robbed! What are the chances!”
Yuuri was still in a daze, walking unevenly and muttering, “Very high. We're in Gotham, Victor. I told you this would happen. It's 64% more likely that you'll experience violent crime in Gotham than anywhere else in the world. That includes actual warzones. Actual warzones Victor. We took a walk through a warzone and almost died. Oh no, I think I'm gonna throw up now...”
“Oi! Not on me! Throw up on the old man!
“And that one in the helmet was so nice!” Victor said. “He was such a big fan of yours, Yuuri. I'm so glad we got to meet him. Maybe Minami-kun has some competition as leader of your fan club, eh?” He laughed.
“Victor, he killed people right in front of us!” Yuuri said.
Victor frowned. “Huh. I suppose he did...”
“So fucking what?” Yurio crossed his arms and scowled. “They were gonna rob us, they got what they deserved. If they'd tried this shit at the rink I'd have skated over their damn throats!”
Victor thought about that for a moment. “Hm. You have a point. I guess...sometimes violence really does solve things?”
Yuuri moaned.
“You better remember you said that the next time JJ opens his stupid mouth,” Yurio said.
“Who?”
Yuuri wailed. “Please...please don't let any reporters hear you talk like this...”
“I wonder if your new fan would try to shoot Minami and take over your fan club?” Victor wondered.
Yurio was the only one who noticed the way Yuuri froze and started to shake. He winced, then, after glancing around to make sure no one was looking, wrapped a comforting arm around Yuuri's shoulder.
“Oh, look!” Victor brightened. “There are some reporters now!”
“V-Victor...wait...”
But Victor had already run off, hands waving over his head and a giant, heart shaped smile on his face.
“Hey! Hey everybody! Guess what!”
The moment they recognized him, the cameras started flashing and questions were being shouted. Victor ignored them all.
“We just met Batman and Robin!”