Chubby!Jason+Tim cooking, if you don't mind prompt now
❤ i never mind prompts! sometimes i am just very slow at getting to them ^^;
ngl there didn’t end up being much cooking in this lol. i thought i was gonna sit down & write ~300 words of cooking + banter & ended up with almost 1k of fluffy domesticity, so. i hope u like it!
it’s been a bit since i’ve had the spoons to do much writing so having this flow as (relatively) easy as it did was a treat. thanks for the prompt~
(i have another jaytim prompt sitting in my inbox rn too, so if ur reading this, nonny, i promise i’m going to get to it! my brain just refuses to settle on one idea~)
OH. and apologies for any missing ‘e’s.’ the key was doing… not fine, but like, decently, and then it decided to pop out & then back on wrong. i think i caught them all, but. just in case.
EDIT: …the last paragraph seems to have disappeared for me? i hope i’ve fixed but, uh. this is also on AO3. if this keeps happening, you may want to read it there instead.
Tim comes home to the heavenly smell of something cooking. He smiles to himself, despite the heaviness in his limbs, and makes his way into the kitchen. Jason stands at the stove, stirring something, while meat sizzles in another pan. Normally Tim would take a moment to admire him; how comfortable and relaxed he is here, in this home they’ve built together.
Not today.
Today, he plasters himself against Jason’s back, burying his face in the fabric of Jason’s t-shirt and winding his arms around Jason’s waist, underneath his Wonder Woman apron. This close, he can smell the lingering traces of Jason’s favorite soap, the slight tang of sweat, and something uniquely Jason. He sinks into his warmth with a soft sigh.
“Long day?” Jason asks, voice rumbling under Tim’s cheek. He lays a hand over Tim’s arm, slowly stroking his skin with his thumb.
Tim nods. “In and out of meetings all day,” he says. He prefers days when he can disappear into the R&D labs. Though, honestly, he’ll even take the paperwork over meetings—especially a full day of them.
Jason hums sympathetically, which Tim feels more than hears. “Food’ll be ready soon,” he says. He taps Tim’s arm once, twice. “You should go change.”
“Mm. I’m good here, actually,” Tim mumbles. Jason-cuddles are the best cure for long, draining days. Nothing beats burying his face in the plushness of his chest or or stomach. Especially when he absentmindedly cards his fingers through Tim’s hair, scratching his scalp in just the right way to make him melt.
The space between his shoulder blades is nice too, though.
