Chapter Text
Had it not been announced in an unceremonious and blasé fashion, no one would have suspected a thing.
Had the announcement not ricochet through the superhero community, to the shock of most everyone, nothing would seem amiss.
Had Damian and Tim not announced that they were dating, no one would ever have known.
Honestly, to this day Clark still isn't sure if they were telling the truth or playing a long con. Because normal couples hold hands, send longing looks each other's way, or at minimum not stand clear across the room from one another.
But not Tim and Damian. Under the mask, they work together in silent and perfect unison. Perfected from years of exclusive patrols and nights fighting crime together, the boys are a perfect team. In fact, it was rare to see them apart from one another during their patrols.
Yet after a joint team up from Clark and Bat-Family, the night had ended with Damian on one end of the watchtower meeting room writing up a report and Tim on the other end having his arm stitched up.
Tim had come out a bit worse than everyone else, taking a nasty punch to the face at the start and ending with his arm being sliced.
Naturally, for anyone injured Clark would assume their partner would be the first to check-in and stay by their side. Instead, when Damian came waltzing in to find a bruised and bloody Tim, they had proceeded to debrief and discuss what details should be added into the report.
He had watched, astonished as their interaction went down. It was Dick that ended up stitching Tim's arm, as Damian wrote up the report and Tim sat texting on his phone.
Absolute absurdity. If Clark was a betting man, he would have sooner believed Bruce to sing a jig while giving him a hug, than a possible relationship between the two robins.
This brings him to now. Trying to figure out what the hell this relationship even is.
Maybe they were fighting? But the last time he saw them fighting it was explosive and everyone knew. Everyone heard. So no way they were fighting. They just seemed…indifferent.
As he thinks, everyone slowly filters out the room with the exception of Damian by the computer. He pushes himself up from his seat and follows the crowd down the halls. He shuts the door for Damian and heads to the dorms to wash up.
Clarks mulls over Damian and Tim's relationship. He's known Tim longer but has seen more of Damian's growth in Gotham. He knows Damian means well and has a heart of gold. He doubts the problem is unfaithfulness, with Damian's strong sense of loyalty and Tim's stubborn morals.
Maybe Damian has trouble expressing himself to Tim. Maybe worse. He may have turned into his father. Emotionally constipated and inept in the way of feelings.
I mean he loves Bruce but god can that man be difficult to reach. Most days he feels like out of the two of them, Bruce is the alien and he's the human trying to sync their signals.
So no doubt Bruce would be useless if he even noticed anything was wrong.
Should he be the one to speak to Damian? He loves the kids practically sees him as another son. And if this goes on any longer, Clark doubts the relationship will last very long.
He pauses and watches everyone disappear down the halls. Damian is alone back in the meeting room. It'll be the best time to catch him alone, without requesting his presence. Which would only set off a million alarm bells for the Bats. He could do it. Give the young man a pep talk, tell him what he needs to do for a healthy relationship.
Yeah, he could do it. Why not? Worse comes to worst, Damian tries to stab him with Kryptonite in an attempt to stop the conversation. He doubts Damian would aim anywhere important.
Clark heads down the hall back to Damian before it even registers. There is no way he's letting Damian follow his father's romantic footsteps.
As he reaches the main conference room, Clark notices the door has been left slightly ajar.
Odd. He had closed that before leaving.
He slows down and quiets his steps. There is no reason to hide his presence, but a gut instinct is telling him to be stealthy. He stops by the door and peers in.
Through the crack, Clark could see Damian at the computer, but the report he had been writing was long forgotten. Instead, Damian had turned to watch Tim ice his bruised cheek. Tim must have stayed behind as well once everyone left.
Tim kept removing the ice pack and hissing at the cold, which kept a small smile on Damian's face.
A smile Clark rarely ever saw on Damian. An expression soft and tender but equally mischievous, clearly amused by Tim's frustrations. Ever quiet, Damian reached out his arm and beckoned for Tim to come. His voice was barely above a whisper and yet Tim had no trouble hearing his partner's words.
In a few steps, Tim stood by Damian and took his outstretched hand which pulled him even closer. Damian reached up and removed the ice pack pressed against Tim's now red cheek. He said something to Tim, which Clark couldn't hear but it elicited a small laugh from Tim.
Tim responded but was far too quiet for Clark to hear naturally. He kept himself so still, he barely had the courage to allow his chest to expand to breathe. Listening in via powers was even less appealing in his current circumstance.
He could only make out a few words, but he could see the way they spoke to each other with humor and love. He saw it in the way Damian's eyes roamed Tim's features for a reaction. He saw it in Tim's relaxed state, the way his head would shake in amusement or the ways his lips would tilt at the end of a response.
Suddenly Tim turned Damian's chair so they were facing one another head-on. To Clark's horror, Tim straddles Damian's legs, resting his knees on either side of the chair. He can feel the flush take over his face, and he's pretty sure he's stopped what little breathing he had managed to maintain thus far.
Oh, the world of pain he'd be in if anyone were to notice him standing in the hallway watching Damian and Tim doing…whatever it is that they are doing. Not to mention what the boys would do if they noticed him standing at the door.
He needed to leave. Or stop watching. Preferably both. At the same time.
But he couldn't, he was rooted in his spot watching Tim Drake straddle his surprise rival turned boyfriend.
Luckily for whatever was left of Clark's nerves, neither one seemed to indicate that they were headed down a…saucier path.
They continued to talk back and forth, as Tim's ice burned cheek lessened in color. It was only when Tim reached out for the icepack again that Damian broke linked hands to grab the icepack and hold it out of Tim's reach. Instead, Damian reached up with his other hand, now tinged red, to Tim's bruised cheek.
The surprised expression on Tim's face made it all clear. Damian had been holding onto the icepack to cool his hand for Tim. Which was now serving as a less harsh cold compress.
Tim leaned into Damian's hand, which must have been a comforting relief.
"Better?" Damian asks, moving closer to gaze up at Tim. Damian clutched the icepack behind Tim and pressed the two of them even closer.
Clark doesn't hear a response, but he watches as Tim cups Damian's face and slowly leans forward. The movement was so minor, and well they were already so close that when Tim's lips are a breath away from Damian's, Clark finally finds the burst of alertness he needs to fly back from the door.
With all the speed he can muster and without hopefully alerting anyone, he makes his way down the watchtower walls. His heart pounded, the image of Tim on Damian's lap, lips seconds away from connecting burned in his mind. He needed to get as far away as he can from that room. From whatever was about to happen next.
From the room where Tim was unexpectedly forward and playful. Soft and pliant to the whims of his partner.
And Damian, who had transformed into someone straight from a Shakespearean romance was the biggest shock. Sure, Damian was a hero, a leader, and caring. Yet doting and sweet were adjectives that would never have crossed his mind till now.
Had it not been for that announcement, no one would have known that Damian and Tim were dating. Its clear, however, that there is far more to those two than any of them could ever guess.
No wonder no one saw it coming.