#Flynn: nah man you just have a crush calm down

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter Three, Segment Four

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full chapter on ao3 here

Three little things change so much.

Joey woke up to Henry’s soft snoring. It left him with an incredulous smile on his face, his heart aflutter. The distinct smell of the man’s aftershave and scent of fresh daisies nearly sent Johan back into a crush like swoon. The glow of his soft, curly, strawberry pink and blonde hair, the sun’s rays brilliantly illuminating each strand in high definition, and that wonderfully blossoming glow reflecting onto Joey beautifully. The warm and comforting presence of his stout and sturdy body, pressing down onto the bed and making Joey gravitate towards him. All of Joey’s senses were occupied, aside from taste, though he could sense his mouth watering at the thought of spending each morning like that. He and Henry together, little Linda in her own room, dozing away peacefully, pure sugary goodness and warmth for their entire family, get togethers with the Flynns, Franks, and the rest of the studio members, tea with Bertrum and coffee with Sammy, complaining to Lacie and joking with Buddy, that was all he wanted. His family to be with him, his family to be safe. Johan, still smiling, pressed a kiss to the top of Henry’s head, staring up at the white ceiling, dissociating to another existence slowly.

A world without Henry. Without anyone. Alone. 

His arms tightened around Henry involuntarily, brows tilting in concern. Heavens, he was terrified of that world, of that past. He wished he could forget it, and yet, at the same time, he knew that if he would, it would happen, over and over. It already did. There was a gaping hole in his soul where the forgotten lives rested, never to rise again, always whispering in his mind the missing time, the lost choices, the dooms he rang and the lives he stole.

Joey was a murderer.

His breathing hitched, eyes welling over.

And it was not just in one forgotten or remembered past life, but all of them, even this one. He did not have a choice, this was before he understood what horrors he could wreak across the multitude of universes. That first death was burned into him.

His step uncle’s flashing grey eyes, the way he tried to cut out his heart, oh, he would never forget the glint of the butcher’s knife, the way it drove into his shoulder, tendons muscles and joints ripping, skin and veins tearing, blood slickening the hand of the man pinning him, his right hand grasping his wrist through pain, left snatching the weapon cleaved into his arm, and 

there

was

so

much

blood.

So much noise. 

White noise blazing and ringing in his ears.

His eyes alight with icy tears, he gasped and nearly sobbed, snapping back to his shaking body. 

Do not wake Henry.

He forced himself to stay silent, his free hand slapping over his mouth, clenching his jaw to keep quiet. 

Do not wake him.

“Joey?” Henry mumbled, pushing himself off the bed. His hand patted the side table for his glasses, which were on top of his head. Johan remained silent. “Johan, you ok?”

Johan did not reply, but shook his head in response. Henry, rubbing his eyes, turned to face him, looking at him intently. Blue teal eyes softened, his yellow hair glowing, eyebrows knitting in sadness. He took Joey’s face in his hands, and pressed their foreheads together.

“Love, it’s okay,” Henry assured him, his thumbs going back and forth on Joey’s cheeks, calming him tenderly. “Remember, we are in this together. Nothing can tear us apart. Don’t forget that. Never forget that.”

“I won’t,” Joey promised in a raspy breath. His throat felt raw. He coughed, and sobbed, and buried his face in Henry’s shoulder, shoulders shaking. “I hope I won’t, please don’t let me forget, please, Henry, I d-don’t wanna forget….”

“You won’t, you won’t.”

“Henry?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I… you know.”

“Why c-can’t you ever say it?” Joey’s voice broke, a hint of exasperation, of hopelessness, of sadness, of hurt seeping into the cracks. Henry, staring at the blank wall, felt the reverberations of Joey’s words on his neck as the weeping man clung to him, and he felt a thin and icy sweat break out on his brow. “You say it, but only when you laugh, you say it, only when you don’t think, you say it, but you never mean it.”

Henry could not reply. He did not even know what to say. How could he? He did not know the reason. It was not the internalized fear, nor was it that he did not love him, he did, he truly did, but he never could say it. He did not know how. 

So, he just wrapped his arms around Joey tightly, and hugged him close, trying to say with his heart what his mouth refused to form and release.

Johan was let out of the hospital that day, leaning away from Henry. Henry felt a divide grow between them again. He wished in his mind to be able to say those three words, but he could not. Joey had once told him of another love who refused to say those same words, and he seemed so sad as he told him, but still so hopeful.

That burning hope. It melted everyone nearby, it endeared Joey to everyone. He was the sweetest and kindest soul Henry had ever met. Bertrum and Lacie loved him as his family, Grant and Sori took him in and cared about him, the entire music department adored him, he was Joey Drew, but more importantly he was their friend and family. A brother, a father, a nephew, a cousin, an uncle, he was all of it. 

To Henry, he was so much more, but he did not know what to say. 

He was his moonlight sonata, his sweet honey bee, his darling devil, and so very wonderful.

Finishing the animations of Joey’s story boards, sending them to the junior animators for fixing up anything he missed, he made his way upstairs to Joey’s apartment. For the past few days, Joey had been obsessing over blueprints for a vast amount of different inventions, mechanical legs, bionic eyes, and lately, that machine. The inventions took over Joey’s thoughts, and he needed someone to remind him to go to meetings (that he avoided by drinking copious amounts of coffee), or to go to sleep (normally Willy or Wally took that upon themselves), or to go outside so that he did not pass out from the lack of external stimulus (Henry was still trying to decode that).

He opened the door, expecting to see him surrounded by papers, and was gladdened to see that he was not, instead happily settled in his wheelchair by his coffee table, pondering before a chessboard with no opponent behind it. He was so absorbed in the game that did not notice Henry. Henry grinned, about to ask if Johan was playing himself, when Johan, on white, made a quick out of book move, and the black pieces moved on their own to counter.

Henry’s jaw dropped and he stared in a complete and total shock, silenced by the surprise of the magic, as Johan continued to play against no one, signing words every now and then, and eventually won, his pieces dancing a small jig before both white and black pieces reset.

Johan then took notice of Henry, and with a grin, gently picked up the game and put it in a glass case, patting the lid affectionately.

“Fascinating, isn't it?” he inquired to the doctor with a blinding grin. “A worthy player. A real sweetheart, too. When you sit before it, you can see him. He speaks sign very well. G-Grace helped me learn it, y-you know.”

“That’s really incredible,” Henry affirmed, eyes wide. “Where on earth did you pick something like that up from?”

“Found it in an old bookstore being used as a prop.”

“You bought it?”

“Nah, I traded some stuff for it. Old books that I had doubles of.”

“Why didn’t you just buy it?” Henry asked, confused, knowing that Joey loved his books and only gave away his doubles to those he loved. Johan did not say anything. “Did you… could you not afford it?”

“No, I could not,” Joey replied, his face darkening. Henry smiled softly, and lifted Joey’s face with his hands, his big palms pressing to Joey’s cheeks. “I wish I c-could’ve….” 

“I know,” Henry soothed him, pressing their foreheads together. Joey relaxed into the touch. “I know, and I wish I was there for you then. But now, we’re here. Together. Right?”

“Right,” Johan answered absently. Henry patted his cheeks. “What-t?”

“You’re zoning out, Johan,” Henry chuckled. Joey blushed, and Henry could feel it. Henry smiled. “You’re adorable, Jo.”

“No I’m n-not!” Joey stuttered, blushing, squirming. He could not escape Henry’s laugh, and he turned even redder. “Henry!”

“I love you.”

Joey froze, staring at him.

“I love you.” Henry repeated.

He watched Joey melt in love. 

#control art #control writes #the sketch #the big picture #pathogenink #joey drew #johan ramirez #henry x joey #joey drew x henry stein #blood tw #ptsd #flashback #family #love #queue pasa? #creatorship

[chibinightowl]

The Fire Inside

For @myfavrobin  We all need a smokin’ hot fireman in our lives. Also posted on Ao3.

~*~

“Come on, Tim!” Kon begged, gazing up at Tim from the floor and turning on the puppy dog eyes. It should not be as effective as it was considering how long the two of them have been friends, but Tim felt his hard line waver under the onslaught. “I said no, Kon,” Tim replied firmly. He pulled his legs up and curled them against his chest, pointedly continuing to play his game. Kon’s character died long ago. Perhaps he should revive him and give him something else to focus on besides this. “But it’s for a good cause!” “I’m not saying it isn’t.” “Then why won’t you do it? It’s not like you’ve got any other jobs lined up at the moment.” Kon’s lips sealed shut when he realized his misstep. Tim paused the game and resisted the urge to throw the controller at his best friend. “I’m on vacation.”

A forced vacation perhaps, but a vacation nevertheless.  

Kon sighed as he stood and flopped down next to Tim. “Look, we all know what happened with your mom wasn’t your fault. That doesn’t mean you’ve got to sit here and sulk about it day in, day out. Seriously, when was the last time you’ve seen daylight?”

“Yesterday. I went up to the roof and read in the garden.” Tim’s building was progressive and green, a rarity in Gotham. The rooftop garden was peaceful and quiet during the day while all his neighbors worked. Worked like he used to, even if he technically doesn’t have to, Drake heir that he was.  

“Okay, fine,” Kon sighed before pressing on. “I just don’t get it, Tim. You’ve shot pro bono events like this before. You’ve had a great time doing it too. So why won’t you do this calendar for us?”

Kon was a firefighter. A firefighter with an extremely hot and sexy colleague who Tim often dreamed would put out the fires that burned inside him. Jason Todd was everything Tim found attractive in a man, plus a few things he didn’t realize he was missing out on. It killed him each and every time he had to interact with the man, which was more often than he liked since Kon was his best friend. The thought of photographing Jason as part of this calendar the firehouses in the district wanted to put out for their local charity was enough to turn Tim’s insides to Jell-O. He’d seen the man without a shirt on once and walked right into a pole as a result of it.

Nope. He’s not doing this to himself again. No way. Even if the memory of all that tanned skin still kept him awake at night and fueled some of his favorite fantasies.

Tim shook his head. “I have my reasons.”

“Are any of those reasons about six feet tall, blue eyed, with thighs thick as tree trunks?” Kon asked shrewdly.

Tim threw the controller at him. “No!” he tried, but it was too late. Kon was already grinning like the asshole he was.

“I knew it!” he crowed in delight. “You’ve got a crush on Jason!”

“What are you, ten?” Tim snapped as he tried to curl up tighter into his ball.

“Seriously, dude. You do! Why did I not figure this out before?”

“Because I was trying to hide it?”

Kon smirked and shook his head. “This explains why you walked into that pole.”

Tim cast about for something else to throw at his best friend. “Kon, please. Don’t say anything to him.”

“Why? It’s not like he’s going to laugh in your face and tell you to fuck off,” Kon replied. “He’s a dick, but not like that. Besides, when I brought up your name as a potential photographer, he seconded it immediately.”

That was unexpected. “Really?” Tim asked, perking up a bit.

“Yeah, really. In fact…” Kon trailed off, thinking over his words. That never meant anything good was about to happen. Tim braced himself, but his friend suddenly shook his head, even if there was a devious glint in his eyes. “Never mind. Anyway, please do this for us, Tim. Please. It can even be my Christmas and birthday presents next year.”

Tim knew his best friend too well to believe he was letting it go this easily. “What were you thinking, Kon?”

“I said it was nothing.”

“Nothing my lily white ass.”

Kon grinned broadly and threw the controller back at Tim. “C’mon, Tim. We’re even gonna feed you. And you know you’ve always wanted to play with a firehose.”

“Asshole.”

~*~*~

Tim was weak. So weak. He thought he could collapse right here and might just do it if it weren’t for the fact that his rather expensive camera would be crushed. Instead, he sat his ass on the concrete floor of the firehouse and hid behind the lens, already trained and focused on the subject of this particular shoot.

Jason.

Specifically, a shirtless Jason in nothing but heavy boots and stained yellow trousers held up by a thick pair of suspenders. He hung off the side of the firetruck and grinned rakishly. “Like this?” he asked.

Behind Tim, Dick Grayson, former underwear model and circus brat, was laughing as he tried to direct his friend. “You look like you should be on the cover of one of Cassie’s trashy romance novels.”

Next to him, the blonde paramedic agreed. “Yep. Except I can at least dream about those guys sweeping me off my feet.”

“Didn’t I see a cowboy on the cover of one of those recently?”

“You sure did. And guess what? He was into guys too.”

“Kinky. Can I read that one?” Jason called out.

Tim ignored their banter and snapped more pictures. More than he needed, but they didn’t need to know. “You trying for funny sexy or smoldering sexy?” he managed to ask. Jason looked more natural than anything else, but that grin was already twisting his insides into knots again.

When he found Kon, he was dead. So dead.

Admittedly, the day hadn’t been that bad. Not really. There were over a dozen volunteers from the different firehouses in the district for the event, off duty, and all having a ton of fun with choreographing and ribbing each other on as the photoshoot progressed. Tim had already swapped out his memory card for a fresh one and was pretty certain he would be making an album of all the goofy outtakes for these guys to laugh over.

Kon would still be a dead man though.

Up on the truck, Jason laughed, rich and bright as he swung around. “How about both?” he said as his lightly stubbled face contorted into something that was definitely not sexy nor smoldering.

“Flynn Rider, you are not!” Cassie hooted. “I don’t think goofy sexy is going to sell calendars.”

“I told ya, all we need to do is put Dickie there in a Speedo and we’re set!” Jason retorted as he made another face that Tim quickly caught for posterity. The playful mood helped calm his nerves somewhat.

“Hey, just because I used to flaunt it doesn’t mean I have to now,” Dick shot right back. “That’s why you’re in the money shot and not me.”

Dick had asked Tim before they even started if he would put Jason on the cover of the calendar rather than him. He didn’t mind participating, it was for a good cause after all, but as he put it, the days where his body and junk were on display for the world to see were long gone. Tim immediately acquiesced and rearranged a few of the ideas he had arrived at the station with, even if working closer with Jason was starting to wear on him.

Or rather, wear out his plethora of boner killer images. Tim felt like he’d been walking around at half-mast all morning. Sure, all the men and women around him were attractive and in great physical shape, but Jason seemed to eschew wearing a shirt at all today, even when he wasn’t in front of the camera. All the skin and muscles were getting to him, but right now, it was the faint trail of hair disappearing into Jason’s pants that kept distracting Tim the most. What was he wearing under those? Boxers? Briefs? Nothing?

If he kept it up, Tim was pretty sure Cassie would be performing mouth-to-mouth on him before lunch.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason replied. “Okay, how about this?” He concentrated, schooling his features into a brooding pout and locked his eyes intently on Tim.

Tim swallowed and kept silent, even as he snapped more pictures. God, through the lens, he could see Jason’s brilliant blue eyes so clearly. That was definitely a smolder.

Still, something was off, and Tim was a professional. He lowered his camera. “Do you have your hat?” he asked. “You know, the big bucket shaped one?”

Dick snickered even as the pout fell off Jason’s face as he started laughing again. “And to think Kon calls you his best friend.”

“Just because he’s my best friend doesn’t mean I know what all your equipment is called.”

“Gimme a sec.” Jason hopped off the truck and brushed against Tim as he walked away.

Tim waited until he was out of sight to collapse against the ground, letting out a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You alright down there, Tim?” Cassie asked teasingly. She and Kon were an on again, off again thing, so Tim knew her pretty well. “If it’s CPR you need, I think I’ll refer you to someone else who would be much more willing to help you relearn how to breathe.”

Tim flipped her off, which made Dick cackle in glee. He was such a dick, even if he did have a pretty face. “I’m gonna kill Kon.”

“Nah, he’s blameless for once. Anyone with half a brain could figure it out.”

Dick squatted down next to him. “Tim, I’m going to let you in on a little secret that’s not really secret to anyone who works here. Except maybe Kon. He’s special like that.”

Tim cracked open an eye. “What?” he asked warily.

“Jason likes you too.”

Huh? Tim sat up quickly and blinked, his heart thundering in his chest. “What?”

“You heard me.” Dick stood and offered Tim a hand up. “He’s had a thing for you ever since the little community carnival you helped out at a while back.”

That was months ago. “If I’m so obvious, then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Cassie snorted loudly as Dick pulled Tim to his feet. “Because he’s just as big an idiot as you are,” she said. “Now that you know, maybe you can do something about it.”

“Wow. Okay. You sure?”

“Positive.”

Tim was still lost in a swirl of emotions when Jason jogged back over, carrying his helmet. Muscles rippled under bare skin and Tim’s mouth watered. Holy cow. If he didn’t somehow screw up, he could actually touch all that skin, or play with the pale nipples that peek out from under those suspenders, and, most importantly, find out exactly what that dark trail of hair leads to.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was Tim Drake. He was bound to screw this up. It was practically his MO for relationships.

“You okay?” Jason asked, reaching out to clasp Tim on the shoulder. “You thirsty?”

Cassie rolled her eyes as she looked away, unable to contain her laugh. “Oh, he’s thirsty for something, alright.”

“We’ll go grab some water bottles and check on lunch. I don’t know why we left Kon and Roy in charge of food.” Dick grabbed hold of Cassie’s arm and dragged her away. Neither quite made it far enough before they broke down in laughter.

“What’s with them?” Jason looked between Tim and his friends in confusion.

“I’m sure you’ll find out later,” Tim replied. Jason was still touching him. His hand was hot against the thin t-shirt he wore. The cool air of the firehouse grew warmer the longer it stayed in place, but that could also be the flush rising up the back of Tim’s neck.

“Yeah, probably.” Jason squeezed Tim’s shoulder lightly before he let go. “So, uh, we gonna finish this?”

Without the others around, things were surprisingly awkward. Tim bit his lip, debating about whether he should speak up or if he should just let Jason find out later after he leaves. His nerves were shot, and it didn’t help matters at all that he could feel the heat radiating off Jason, standing as close as he was.

“Let’s do it,” Tim replied, shoving everything aside to focus on the task at hand. He had one job to do and that was make Jason look as incredible as possible for the cover of this calendar. He could do this. He was a professional. He had photographed some of the most beautiful people in the world for some of the biggest fashion magazines around, even if he privately thought none of them could hold a candle to the man next to him.

Jason put on his helmet and got back up on the truck. He tried hard, Tim would grant him that, but everything felt off. The sizzling energy from earlier was gone and even Jason knew it. He slumped against the truck as Tim swiped through the photos he’d just taken, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Tim. I guess I need to be razzed up or something and now that the peanut gallery is gone…” he trailed off, running a hand through mussed up hair. His helmet sat at his feet.

Tim raised his camera just in time to catch the despondent look. Even like this, Jason was still photogenic.

It was time to make a decision. He could either use one of the shots he’d gotten earlier without the helmet or he could help his subject find that special energy again. Tim glanced at Jason and caught him staring.

The fire ignited once more.

Tim found himself being drawn in closer like a moth attracted to the flame. He took another picture as Jason’s lips parted into that same sensuous pout from before, his eyes intense and brooding.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now, Tim?” Jason asked hoarsely.

“Probably the same thing you’re doing to me,” Tim replied, taking one last picture.

“Yeah? We gonna do something about it?”

Tim lowered his camera. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he somehow turned this gorgeous hunk of a man on. Those were bedroom eyes, ones that he could feel stripping him down to his soul. “It depends,” he said, slowly striding forward.

“On what?” Jason crossed his arms over his chest, drawing Tim’s eye to the spread of his shoulders and all the heavy muscle of his upper body.

“What are the chances we’re going to get some actual privacy around here?”

“Slim to none,” Jason replied. “We’re being watched, you know.”

“Of course, we are.”

“Just kiss already!” Kon’s voice erupted from the other side of the garage. “I got money on this, Tim! You owe me!”

More laughter echoed out around from around them. “No, it has to be Jason!” Cassie shouted. “Do it, Jay! My money’s on you!”

Jason’s head slammed against the side of the fire engine even as Tim’s cheeks blazed under the force of his embarrassment. So much for the moment. At least he had his picture now.

Tim sighed and stepped away, but Jason’s arm snaked out and grabbed hold of him, drawing him close. His hands touched searing skin, and Tim barely managed to keep his camera from crushing into Jason’s chest.

Jason took hold of the camera and carefully swung it around the strap so that it hung down Tim’s back. “Want to fuck up all their bets?”

This was something Tim was very much on board with. “On three?”

“One.” Jason cradled the side of Tim’s face in one of his large hands.

“Two.” Tim reached up and tangled his fingers in Jason’s dark hair.

“Three.”

Their mouths met in a fiery clash even as hoots and shouts of encouragement and laughter rained down around them. Tim moaned under the onslaught and gave as much as he got, refusing to back down. It seemed to turn Jason on even more as his other arm wrapped around him, forcing Tim closer so that he could feel the solid wall of man and muscle pressed against every inch of him. Tim’s free hand dropped to Jason’s waist and traced the edge of the trousers that have been bothering him all morning. At the small of Jason’s back, Tim dared to sneak his fingers under the heavy fabric, wanting an answer to that all important question.

Tim’s questing fingers found nothing but bare skin.

Okay, so maybe Kon wasn’t so dead after all.

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #JayTim #Awkward Romance #Photographer!Tim #Fireman!Jason #Dick Grayson #Kon-El #Cassie Sandsmark