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Title: Fruit Apocalypse
Author: Tyrror
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Timmy has been craving fruit and it appears to have arrived en masse despite no one knowing where it came from...well...almost no one.

The room certainly smelled delicious and, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, looked delicious but there was just something extraordinarily suspicious about the one thing he was craving suddenly showing up in mass quantities. The scent of fructose and flowers and what he was rather certain was honey wafted past his face again and his mouth watered, overruling his brain momentarily and he lifted the nearest specimen with a contemplative frown.

The strawberry was rather large, ripe and red and near bursting with the scent of natural sugars that was slowly driving Tim into mental anguish. Turning it over slowly slowly in his palm he examined the other side with the same scrutiny and slowly came to the conclusion that it didn’t look threatening but…

“Drake, why have you amassed a small orchard on the kitchen table?”

“I didn’t,” he responded with a distracted sidelong glance, not taking his eyes from the fruit in his grasp.

“Well it would appear…” the other boy started to retort but his voice faded suddenly and Tim was forced to look up at the younger boy where he stared pointedly just to the left of the mound of produce.

The shadows on the other side of the room shifted slightly and Jason stepped into full view around the obtrusive produce pyramid. His smile was glaringly bright as he moved forward, a tell-tale sign that at least some or all of their current predicament was his doing.

“Jay,” Tim said smoothly with as little emotion as possible, “why does the kitchen vaguely resemble a small country farm?”

“What?” Jason questioned, his voice filled with the threat of faux-anger. “I’m not allowed to do something nice for you once in awhile, replacement? You were the one who wanted a plant-based sugar high.”

“You do have to admit that it’s a bit suspicious given that I hadn’t told you I’ve been craving fruit.” He hefted an apple in one hand, tossing it gently into the air before catching it again and setting it back on the hard wooden surface, “I wasn’t even home from the tower until two hours ago.”

“I ran into one of the titan chicks earlier.” Jason returned casually, rolling a grape around with a single finger.

“Really now,” the other man’s voice was full of doubt, one eyebrow raised curiously, “and what did she say?”

“Get out of my room.” The older boy stated calmly, picking up his single grape and balancing it precariously atop what looked to be a slightly under-ripe mango.

“And did you?”

Jason’s grin went back to being nearly infectious as he turned his full attention back to the third Robin.


Damian’s gaze drifted back and forth between the two taking in the minute changes that happened moment by moment. The way Drake’s mouth curled up around the edges even though he was obviously fighting it. The way Jason’s head was continually tilted forward so that he was looking up through his lashes at the other man. With a sudden horror, his eyes went wide and he felt himself freeze before turning on his heel and charging into the next room, the cry of “Grayson, for the sake of all things holy,” rushing down the hall before him.

As the boy’s cries faded into the mass of wood and stone that was the manor, Tim couldn’t help but grin at the man in front of him a continue their line of thought.

“Well, considering none of the girls really trust you, I doubt they were the ones to give away my terrible secret.” He jiggled his fingers about in midair for impact and tried not to laugh when Jason snorted, barely succeeding. “So who was it?”

“You’re favorite Kryptonian boyfriend,” Jason’s voice was getting slightly deeper with every remark and Tim couldn’t help but notice the manner in which the other man sauntered around the corner of the kitchen table to stand in front of him.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” the younger boy’s cheeks tinted pink at the memory that rushed through his mind. The thought of how frantically he burst into the clones room when he heard his best friend calling out Bart’s name only to discover…well…it wasn’t one of his finer moments. “Kon prefers them younger.”

“Really?” Jason quirked an eyebrow at the thought, moving suddenly to press the Tim’s lower back against the hard edge of the table. “So do I…”

Tim gasped at the unexpected movement, the heat radiating off of Jason’s body from mere centimeters away and he swallowed, hard. Jason leaned in, face close to Tim’s and his mouth opened to say something…but whatever it was Tim wouldn’t get the chance to find out as the older man moved to brace himself on the table and discovered, instead, an awkwardly placed orange. There was a brief moment of clarity in which Jason’s forehead struck his just hard enough to be painful and the other man’s arm rolled forward on the errant fruit in to the massive pile of miscellaneous foodstuffs behind him before all hell broke loose.

The world began to collapse around him, a rather large pineapple rolling past his hip and crashing to the floor with an obscene squelch was the first sign of the impending apocalypse. The next sign was the groaning, rumbling, terrifying noise that nearly one hundred pounds of various fruits make as they fold in upon themselves and scatter in every viable direction.

The look on Jason’s face is priceless, a mixture of mild amusement and terrified realization barely registering over the sensual smirk he still hasn’t had time enough to wipe from his face and Tim can’t help but let out an unexpectedly loud laugh. The sound is like the gunshot at a marathon, dozens and then hundreds of pieces of fruit tumbling from the table at his back to scatter across the floor. Jason shifts and twists awkwardly in the onslaught, avoiding what he can and unabashedly using the smaller man as a shield when, luck of all luck, his foot lands on something less than stable and Tim realizes with a stomach-sinking certainty that the older man is fall…and he hasn’t let go of Tim yet.

The two of them hit the floor with a mutual “omf”. After a short moment to catch his breath, Tim has the sudden realization that he has managed to land directly on top of the other boy, their chest pressed together and Jason gasping from having the wind knocked out of him.

“Fuck,” Jason mutters to no one in particular as a kiwi makes a slow attempt at escape past his left ear, “You are a lot heavier than you look.”

The chuckle in Tim’s throat starts off as an almost imperceptible shaking that quickly erupts into a full-fledged euphoria. Tim is pressed against the older man’s chest in a manner he never imagined with fruit moving slowly around them and the awkward sound of squishing in his ears from when they shift just slightly and something is crushed.

Jason does not seem to find it nearly as amusing, his face a stone mask of discomfort until, without warning, that too breatks and he dissolves into laughter the likes of which Tim has never heard from the other man. The two of them are gasping for breath with the insanity of it all when, unexpectedly, Tim feels warm lips on his own and, despite what he may have thought just moments prior, he pushes back.

Tim’s tongue seems to have a mind of its own as it presses against Jason’s, the entire scenario seeming utterly wrong yet entirely right as he melts into the man underneath him in a way he hadn’t considered possible until that very moment.

“Jay?” he whispers as they separate, his mind awash with unanswered questions and confusion.

“Shh,” the other boy says softly, “Think later.”

And that’s exactly what he does.


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December 2012

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