Chapter Text
The moment Damian could walk on his two feet again, he’d been tempted to return to Bludhaven to avoid his father’s presence as much as possible (they hadn’t talked since that day), however when Alfred had given him the stern look that had never failed to work on all of the Wayne children, Damian reluctantly extended his stay at the manor and took a temporary leave from his job at Bludhaven’s local animal shelter until his full recovery despite the awkward tension between him and Bruce.
There was also the matter of Dick, who’d been so ecstatic to know that his big brother would be staying. Damian felt a harsh pang of guilt hit him when the boy clung to him with such a bright smile, remembering how he’d let his personal conflict get in the way of visiting and spending time with his son little brother. He was sure that the last time they’d hung out was last month. It had been weeks since then and--god, if only Damian could control his emotions better. Things between Bruce and him had never been the same again after the Joker’s death, and even though Damian didn’t have any regrets, he still wished Bruce would look past his actions and understand his motive.
(Damian had done it for Tim. He couldn’t bear the guilt, the hatred, the thirst to deliver retribution. He’d do it all over again if he must. Joker didn’t deserve another breath after taking his brother’s life and shattering his father’s sanity.)
So here Damian was, sitting in the library with a book and a steaming cup of tea that Alfred had so generously brewed for him. He was waiting for Dick to return home from school so they could have their deserved bonding session. Damian thought he might as well enjoy it if he was under house arrest due to his healing injuries, and it was the perfect way to make it up to Dick after everything that had happened. He’d heard of how the preteen had neglected himself despite the family’s insistence in favor of staying by Damian’s bedside, refusing to leave until he was fully conscious and recovering. It warmed and broke Damian’s heart simultaneously at how caring Dick could be at such a young age, but he’d still have to talk with him about it. Damian didn’t want anyone to stop taking care of themselves for his sake, especially not his little Habibi.
Damian’s reading came to a halt when he heard footsteps approaching the library. Years of training at the League and by his father’s side had given him the ability to notice the sounds coming from the distance and closing in on his location. Damian’s eyes widened as Tim appeared at the door, dressed in casual clothing and a smile growing on his face as the younger man spotted him.
“Hey, Dames.”
“Drake,” Damian slowly put down his book to give Tim his full attention. “What are you doing here? You almost never come to the manor.”
“Same goes to you,” Tim snorted.
Damian gave him a deadpan stare.
“I still visit at least once or twice every month. You, however, only step foot in here when either I or Alfred explicitly insist you to.”
Tim merely gave a shrug as he crossed the room, plopping himself down right next to Damian on the large loveseat. Damian stayed silent as Tim looked him up and down, seemingly assessing the state of his healing body. The expression on the younger man’s face was carefully neutral as he finally met his older brother’s gaze, but Damian knew Tim better than that. He could see an unreadable emotion lighting up in the once blue eyes now tainted with Lazarus green.
(It reminded Damian of his past failures. Damian hated it, and yet, he loved it at the same time, for they were Tim’s eyes, the one that he secretly held dear in his heart.)
“I actually came to see you,” Tim confessed. “I just hate not knowing how you’re holding up, and when I called Alfred, he told me you’re staying at the manor until you’re allowed back on the streets again, so that’s the only reason why I’m here.”
“I’m flattered that you care so much about me,” The corner of Damian’s lips lifted only slightly. “It would seem you’re not as ‘emotionally distant’ as you make yourself out to be.”
“Very funny,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Never took you for the joking type. Being Dick’s pseudo-dad really mellowed you out, huh?”
Damian spluttered.
“What!? I--I’m not--Richard isn’t--Drake.”
Tim let out a light-hearted snicker, fondness clearly shining in his gaze at Damian’s indignant growl. Damian gave him an exasperated look before a sudden thought came to his mind. He’d read the reports about that night where he’d been on the brink of death, about how Tim hadn’t hesitated to gun down the criminals who’d come close to kill him. The air between them shifted from playful to somber in an instant as Damian turned his head away from Tim and stared at the carpet. He was acutely aware of Tim’s confusion as he leaned forward to try to get a look at his face.
“Damian? What’s wrong?”
Damian swallowed.
“I read the files. You...killed those men. To save me.”
The older man didn’t need a glance to know Tim’s expression had fallen, his lips pressed into a thin line, the same look he always had whenever he was serious. Damian’s intention wasn’t to scold Tim or anything of the sort; he wasn’t exactly a saint himself. Damian knew, deep in his heart, that he’d have done the same. If it came down to resorting to his old League ways to save the man he loved, Damian would be ready to take another person’s life.
He’d done it once, after all.
“Yeah, I did. And I don’t regret it,” Tim replied.
“Why? You...you haven’t killed anyone since you and father had a truce. Why now? Why risk father’s wrath?” Damian was looking at Tim now, and he found his heart beating faster as Tim scooted closer to him, the emotions in his eyes were raw and intense.
“Why? Damian, when it comes down to the world and you, I would always choose you, every single time. I don’t care what Bruce thinks, because I’m not letting him dictate my actions when he hadn’t come for me, and had been ready to continue allowing Joker to run free after my death.”
Damian’s eyes widened in shock at the declaration. His lips were slightly parted, entranced by the way Tim’s voice held nothing but conviction and desperate protectiveness, as if he was trying to prove his honesty to Damian. As if he was trying to prove something more.
“Did you regret killing the Joker?” Tim asked. “Even when it caused the rift between you and Bruce?”
Damian was suddenly assaulted with an array of emotions that he hadn’t felt in years. It was so different to be asked the questions than asking himself for the answers. Damian realized that this was a point where he wouldn’t ever be able to return from--that if he spoke now, then his feelings would become true. The longer they stared at each other, the more Damian saw how Tim was willingly wearing his heart on his sleeve, something that the younger man had never done ever since his resurrection. He knew, in that moment, that Tim felt the same, and he was ready to open the floodgates to their built up feelings. It would forever change things between them.
Damian only knew one answer to that.
“No,” He shook his head gently and never left his eyes off of Tim. “I didn’t regret it. Father and I have always had our own reservations about each other anyways and...I did it for you.”
The last part came out as an earnest whisper as Damian allowed the magnetic pull between them to lean closer to Tim. His breath was completely taken away with how Tim’s eyes softened instantly in response, a rare flicker of affection shining through them.
“I didn’t either, when I shot those bastards to death,” Tim was also whispering now, and Damian was acutely aware of their proximity. He knew Tim was too, and it didn’t stop them from inching even closer. “I did it for you, to save you. And I’d do it again, no matter what anyone says, because that’s--that’s how much I--”
Damian didn’t need to hear anything more. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck and kissed him passionately. The older man’s heart jumped in joy when Tim kissed him back just as eagerly, his hands on Damian’s waist and practically pulling him into his lap. Damian was right--this had definitely been a long time coming, how they always danced around one another without ever acknowledging to what extent they would go for each other, and Damian could feel tears prickling the corner of his eyes as he thought about how they’d both almost lost the chance to be like this because of his foolish impulsiveness that ultimately led to his near death experience.
Damian would never allow anything or anyone to tear them apart again, and he knew that Tim shared the same resolution in his heart.
Their little intimate moment came to an abrupt stop however, as hurried footsteps echoed in the hall and closing in the library hot. Tim and Damian broke apart at the sudden intrusion of a small blue blur barreling straight into Damian’s arms, and it took them a solid second to realize it was Dick who was back home from elementary school and ready to monopolize his former partner’s attention.
“Dami!” Dick squealed. “I’m home! I couldn’t sit still in class because I wanted so badly to end so we can go play toge--”
The ten-year-old seemed to finally register Tim’s presence, and his smile immediately turned into a cute angry pout as he wrapped his arms tighter around Damian’s abdomen while glaring up at his second oldest brother. Tim merely cocked an eyebrow.
“Timmy, you can’t play with Dami! You and Dami are always together! I want Dami to play with me now!”
“Now Richard, that’s no way you should greet Drake when he hasn’t been to the manor in months--” Damian began.
“Oh I don’t know about that, Dickie,” Tim cut off Damian’s gentle scolding with a playful smirk. “The games you want to play with Dames and the games I want to play with him are very different.”
“Drake!” Damian shouted indignantly with a bright red blush on his face.
Tim only laughed when Dick glanced between his two brothers in slight confusion before reverting back to his pouty mood and went on to argue about how he was Damian’s favorite and therefore he should always be with him, and Tim shooting back (in good nature of course) about how Damian never explicitly established who was his favorite, while the man in question only sighed exasperatedly. There they go again, Damian thought to himself.
Maybe he should go hang out with Jason instead.