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Bruce still calls him sometimes. In the middle of the night, early in the morning when Jason knows he's just getting done with inventory. Jason knows - Jason knows he shouldn't answer.
He always does, and it always starts the same.
"I know it's late," Bruce says.
"That's all right," Jason says. It's two in the morning, and Jason has to get up in two hours for work, where he'll stand next to Tim for eight hours and not say a word about any of this.
"It's not," Bruce says. His voice is raspy, whiskey and insomnia. Jason's sure he's been up reading one of his big musty books, Keats or Burroughs or some history of Yugoslavia. Bruce is loaded, but he still gets everything second or third hand, says there's more feeling to the books that way.
"I just," Bruce says. "I needed to hear your voice. I - do you remember when we went to that convention? Out in Seattle."
Jason does. He got in some big argument with some pretentious douchebag there, and Bruce was so embarrassed, like he should've known better than to take some seventeen-year-old punk with him anywhere.
"Yeah," Jason says. "I thought you were gonna leave me there."
"I thought about it," Bruce chuckles. "It was the first time I ever saw - you were so young then, Jay."
Jason swallows. He remembers the first time Bruce took him to bed. He was sixteen, hadn't had a bed that was more than a mattress in years, and he talked like he knew everything, like he wasn't nervous or inexperienced, like he understood more than half the words that came out of Bruce's mouth.
"Yeah," Jason says. He should hang up. The next time he sees Bruce they won't mention this, nothing will exist of this except Bruce's big sad eyes, the beard he never shaves when he's -
"Bruce," Jason starts, and Bruce says, "Do you think - if you and Tim -"
"Bruce," Jason says, and it's both a warning and a plea. In his apartment, Jason's sure Tim's sleeping, crashed out and taking up the whole bed, skinny limbs all spread out. Like Bruce, Tim can stay up for days, piles of manic energy that disappears all at once. Like Bruce, Jason has to remind him to eat sometimes. He's still learning to cook without burning the house down, but the way he smiles when he gets something right -
"You should sleep," Jason says.
"So should you," Bruce says, but neither of them hangs up. They stay on the phone listening to each other breathe. Jason used to just lay there in Bruce's bed listening to his soft snores. Someone broke Bruce's nose once, but he never did tell him the story.
"I miss you," Bruce says finally.
"Yeah," Jason says. He shuts his eyes, shuts out his bedroom that doesn't feel right. "I miss you too, Bruce."