I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING

I am taking requests so please leave prompts.

(I know that the ages are inaccurate, but I am making them like this for the story)

Dick (Nightwing): 20

Jason (Red Hood): 17

Tim (Red Robin): 14

Damian (Robin): 12

WARNING: Jason's potty mouth, Also, this is complete crack. Please don't take it seriously.

Request for: Lawlipop9991

'Tis a Poet

'SHK'

Tim looked up from his book when he heard rummaging and shuffling.

'CRSH'

Tim put down his book and made his way to his left wall. The wall that he shares with Jason. Tim heard the continued shuffling coming from where Jason's closet would be.

Bruce was at a Wayne Enterprises meeting with Dick and Damian is still at a class field trip, leaving him, Alfred and Jason alone in the ginormous house.

'What is he doing?' Tim thought. He walked over to his bedroom door to take a quick peak out into the hallway and saw Jason leaving his room and locking the door.

'If that's not suspicious, then I don't know what is.' He thought. Tim shrugged and continued to read his book.

'I will not go into Jason's room.' Tim told himself as he continued to read.

'I will not go into Jason's room.'

'I will not go.'

'I will not.

I will.'

Tim conceded to his inner demon and tip-toed out of his room. He looked to his left and to his right, making sure that Jason would not be able to see him. After deciding that the coast was clear, Tim made his way to Jason's bedroom door.

He jiggled the doorknob to find that it was locked. Tim silently cursed and pulled out his lock picking kit. (It's in his utility belt that he brings everywhere.)

Twist. Right.

Twist. Left.

Got it.

Tim put is lock pick back into his utility belt and slowly opened the door. Tim peered inside and made his way stealthily into his seventeen year-old brother's room.

'What if it's drugs?' Tim asked himself. 'Will I have to tell Bruce?'

Tim stepped over discarded clothes and red solo cups, that looked like they still contained some type of liquid, to stand in front of Jason's closet door.

'Maybe I shouldn't be doing this.' He thought to himself.

…

'Yeah, I'm doing it.'

Tim opened the closet door to find…

Nothing.

"Well that was anticlimactic." Tim sighed. He was about to shut the closet door when he saw wooden plank was not nailed down properly. Curiosity getting the best of him, again, Tim pried the plank out of the floor and saw a big black trunk.

'Jackpot.' Tim thought. He quickly peeked out of the closet to make sure that the coast was still clear before carefully lifting the locked trunk out of the ground.

Tim grabbed his lock pick and made quick work of unlocking the aged trunk. He slowly opened it and saw…

Paper.

And books.

Tim was going to throw the contents of the stupid rectangle to the ground, but picked them up instead.

holy

crap

Tim read the first paper.

"If kisses were raindrops,

I'd send you showers.

If hugs were seconds,

I'd send you hours.

If smiles were water,

I'd send you the sea.

If love was a person,

I'd send you me."

What

the

hell

Tim looked through the other papers with wide eyes.

"There's a special place in my heart,

where I cancel you near.

No matter how far,

darling you are in my thoughts you appear.

The way we love each other,

makes it hard to be apart.

So when I can't hold you in my arms,

I hold you in my heart."

Tim looked at the romantic poems in his hands and saw a signature that top of each one.

"By: Jason Todd"

"Written By: Jason Todd"

"By: Jason Todd"

"Jason Todd"

The almost legal adult who Tim looked up to since he was adopted into the Wayne family.

The man who always wears that large leather jacket that reeks of cigarette smoke and gunpowder.

The man who picked a bullet out of his leg with a pocket knife.

Is a romantic poet.

…

Tim was too busy trying to wrap his head around the facts, that he didn't hear the bedroom door open.

Or the heavy footsteps that made their way to the closet.

"What the fuck are you doing!?"

Tim whipped his head around to see a pissed off, and slightly blushing, Jason glaring at him.

"I-I…" Tim stammered.

"What are you doing in my room!?" Jason stepped closer to him and yanked the poems out of Tim's hands.

"I- Sorry." Tim squeaked.

Jason snarled, "You didn't see anything, got it?"

Tim silently collected himself enough to smirk at his really pissed off older brother.

"But I think I did. I even think I read something about smiles and the sea." Tim smiled innocently as Jason blushed.

"Shut up." Jason mumbled and clutched the poems closer to his chest.

Tim noticed that Jason looked morose and became concerned, "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought it was funny that you of all people, writ poetry. It's good." He smiled.

Jason raised an eyebrow, "Really?" Tim nodded. "Thanks. My mom taught me." He informed Tim.

Tim smiled a sad smile as he thought of was to make the conversation happier.

"Hey," He nudged Jason, "I bet that if you tell Alfred about your poetry, he could show you some of his poetry books."

Jason looked at Tim and realized what he was doing, "Maybe." He ruffled Tim's hair as they made their way out of the dark closet.

"Oh, and if you tell anybody about this, I'll tell them about last summer."

Jason didn't need to look at him to tell that Tim was blushing like a tomato.

A/N: I'm sorry. Send in ideas as to what you may think "last summer" is ;)