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Five
“Can I kiss you?”
Tim froze up. The question didn’t catch him off guard, per se, he knew this was going to happen eventually. Such was the way of a budding romance and yet the anxious swirls in his stomach wouldn’t cease. He had kissed people numerous times before, but this time was different.
Perhaps it was the fact that this was a boy. A boy who he had feelings—romantic feelings—for. A boy he had spent a significant amount of his free time with over the past weeks. A boy who lingered in his mind, even when they were apart.
Truthfully, he did want to kiss a boy. This boy, specifically. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. Perhaps fantasized is a more appropriate word. He fantasized about cradling this boy's face in his hands, pressing their lips together. He wondered what the boy’s lips felt like against his. Despite his perpetual train of thought, making such things become reality brought on a feeling of unease which prompted the thought: what if I mess up?
There wasn’t even a reason for him to be scared. He was in the confines of his apartment, no nosy paparazzi, no irritating siblings to poke fun at him, no unwanted onlookers. It was only him and this boy he was gravitated to.
Bernard lowered his eyes, squeezing Tim’s hand as he spoke, “I really like you, okay Tim? And I want to kiss you,” He huffed out a shy laugh. The anxious feeling worsened, Tim’s head felt light.
In his past relationships he had not been enough. He knew he was not good enough for his string of girlfriends, he denied them the affection they wanted, prioritizing his work and his own needs over theirs. The idea of doing the same to Bernard brought him a twinge of guilt. He was yet again going to ruin a relationship.
As if he could sense Tim’s spiraling thoughts, Bernard bumped his forehead against Tim’s. They had done this before; this was okay. Bernard spoke in a hushed voice, “But it’s okay if you’re not ready.”
Bernard had always been overtly confident, saying what’s on his mind without second thought. In all the time they had known each other, Tim had hardly seen anything short of a cocky smirk or a bitter look of superiority. Even in the recent weeks after reuniting, Bernard still held his head high.
Something Tim had never seen before, not until now, was fear in the eyes of Bernard. The boy had a bright, self-assured demeanor, but there was a speckle of doubt decorating his once hopeful eyes.
Tim felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. In his moment of hesitation, he had put out this spark between them. The shaky breath he drew in must have caught Bernard's attention as he pulled away from Tim, examining Tim’s face as he tried to blink away the burning tears but it was hopeless as Bernard gently stroked his cheeks, giving the most reassuring smile a person could muster.
“I never want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. A person like you doesn’t come around very often and I want to be with you,” he bit his lip with a subtle uncertainty, “I really wanna kiss you, but not until you’re ready. I’ll wait as long as it takes. You’re worth it.”
Tears silently ran down Tim’s cheeks. Not despair, but relief. Bernard Dowd, the cocky, overconfident blonde, currently looking at Tim as if he was the only thing that mattered, was willing to wait. For once Tim thought maybe I am enough.
A few days later Tim worked up the courage to kiss Bernard.
Four
A yawn escaped his mouth before he had the chance to stop it. He attempted to avoid the eyes staring him down but, out of the need to not seem too heartless, he looked up. The disapproving look was a telltale sign of what was to come.
“Typically people yawn because they’re tired.”
Bernard had arrived only a few minutes earlier. He let himself into the apartment with Tim’s permission and had proceeded to watch Tim work from beside him on the two-seater lounge. Though he was conscious of the role of CEO being a lot to take on, there were times when he figured Tim’s wellbeing was at risk. This was one of those times.
“I'm not tired.” It was not exactly a lie. Sure, he was physically and mentally exhausted, but he was not tired of everything. Bernard’s consistent presence in his life was something he’d probably never tire of. If anything, it was Bernard’s fault for not specifying.
Tim was aware that Bernard would get around anything Tim could say. It was only a matter of time before he was being dragged to bed and watched over to be certain that he slept peacefully, without nightmares, and did not try to sneak out of his room to work.
“When was the last time you slept?” This time Bernard sounded genuinely concerned. Tim stayed silent, not because he didn’t want to answer, but he simply did not know the answer.
Bernard understood Tim’s non-existent response “I talked to Dick.”
Tim knew what that meant. Dick had mentioned to Bruce about wanting access to the Wayne Enterprises database, he saw what was done and when and he had a tendency to tell people if Tim was overworking himself, for health reasons, supposedly.
That was not the case though. Tim simply wanted to be ahead of schedule and, in his mind, was using his time fairly reasonably. Out of all the things that have occurred throughout the few months they had been together, letting Dick meet Bernard was certainly high on the list of major regrets.
He hadn’t intended for any of the family to meet Bernard. Not yet, anyways. Dick insisted on meeting Bernard once Tim had let it slip that he was in a relationship. In all fairness, Dick was the safest person in the family to give the shovel talk.
“You’ve been working nonstop for days, Timmy, you need a bite to eat and a nap.” There he goes with the nickname. At first Tim had found the name annoying, it was a nickname seemingly permanent on the list of things that Tim refused to be called, but now it was more so endearing than anything. Still, it was only to be used by Bernard and no one else.
“What I need is to get this work done.” It was a rather lame response, though it was hard to be witty when he was only half awake.
“Work can wait,” he took Tim’s laptop out of his lap, placing it on the coffee table, “We are gonna take a nap.” Bernard’s confidence never fails to surprise Tim. He was, however, caught off guard by Bernard saying ‘we’.
Tim wanted, more than anything, to fall asleep in Bernard’s arms. Still, he put on a show of rolling his eyes as he took the blonde boy’s outstretched hands and let him lead to Tim’s bedroom where Tim enjoyed the best sleep he’d had in years.
Three
Bernard didn’t know all the details. If Tim wanted to stay with Bernard he’d eventually have to be honest with him; tell him everything. For now, due to Bruce’s strict rules, Tim had no choice but to keep his identity a secret from Bernard.
What Bernard did know was that Tim’s family situation was complicated. In fleeting conversations he had mentioned being adopted by Bruce after the death of his biological father and the nuisances that were his new siblings. He knew the Wayne children worked together a fair amount, though what work they did was, to his knowledge, unspecified jobs for Wayne Enterprises, spare Tim who was the actual CEO.
Bernard knew the history of the family. Bruce had adopted Dick and Cassandra, Damian was his biological child, and then there was Tim. Tim worked for Bruce before he was orphaned and Bruce had made the decision to take him in, and, though he no longer lived in the Wayne estate, he was legally Bruce Wayne’s son.
Tim was always known to be a reserved person, which is why he had surprised himself when he opened up to Bernard. Bernard had always freely expressed himself and, in a way, Tim envied that. But he mostly felt he could trust Bernard with this miniscule voice of negativity that had been eating away at him.
If he was being honest, he figured Bruce felt obliged to adopt him. All of Tim’s siblings were optional for Bruce, with the exception of Damian, though Bruce and Tim had already been working together too long as Batman and Robin for it to be acceptable to abandon him.
On Bernard’s couch his concerns were voiced in an awkward, messy string of words. Bernard, however, had the almost magical ability to understand Tim’s nonsensical rambling of family drama. When he brought up his siblings, Tim had wanted to say ‘Jason’ but, as far as anyone knew, Jason was still dead. He had cleared his throat, hoping the slipup went unnoticed.
Though he was never one for physical affection, Tim was comforted by Bernard’s arms wrapping delicately around his waist. The crook of Bernard’s neck was always a good place to hide his face when he was in a bad mood. Bernard understood Tim’s feelings of misplacement, of feeling lost and unwanted, even in one's own family. Despite only knowing one member of Tim’s adopted family, he made Tim's feelings seem valid.
"You have a place in this world, in that family, you belong with them,” he paused, “as you do with me,” the hopeful smile played across his face, “it’s not out of pity, it’s out of respect and out of love. Bruce knew who you were, he saw your ups and your downs and he still thought you were someone worth making part of the family.”
That perspective was not something Tim had considered. Rather than responding, he buried his nose further into the space between Bernard's neck and shoulder, hiding his face in the collar of the boy’s blazer to avoid the inevitable facing of his own stupidity.
“You’ll probably need to talk to Bruce, especially if you’re genuinely bothered by this, but I’m sure he’ll say the same thing but with a side of broodiness.” This caused Tim to huff out a soft laugh as he leaned further into Bernard.
Tim was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too bad of an idea to let Bernard meet his family. He got along with them all fairly well, including Damian which had surprised Tim most of all. He understood their dynamics and Tim felt free to be himself for the most part; eventually he’d tell Bernard everything, he may even need to brave meeting Jason, but for now he knew he would be okay.
Two
Bernard had always been outwardly flirtatious. It was one of the things that had not changed about him since their school years. Unless it was directed at Tim, his flirting was always under the basis of being playful joking. Despite that, it didn’t stop the swirl of jealousy in Tim’s stomach when Bernard ever-so casually winked at the girl running the small food stand.
The two had spent the day roaming a marketplace, decorated with colorful, hand-woven tapestries from all around the world hanging from pop up marquees, music blaring as people showed off traditional dances and the strong aroma of unknown foods sizzling. It was full of bustling people; a place that Bernard seemed at home in.
Tim did not mind spending time in such a place, especially not if it made Bernard happy. There were many places Tim would much rather spend his valuable time with Bernard, though the other boy was glowing in the market.
As they walked, Tim tried to ignore Bernard’s hand brushing against his. As far as the public knew, they were just close friends. Tim wanted to remain that way, mainly to keep Bernard safe. Only a small portion of his reasoning was his fear of coming out.
A small stand featuring an array of savory food, many of which were foreign to the two, was where they had decided to stop for lunch. Bernard, ever the gentleman he was, decided to pay, much unlike near every other date they had been on.
The giggle that came from the girl Bernard had winked at made Tim’s insides twist unpleasantly. The playful act that Bernard had put on was most definitely something she was into. Despite what he would prefer, Tim knew he shouldn’t internalize how it made him feel.
‘Communication is important.’ Dick had told him. ‘Hypocrite.’ was his response.
After the event, Tim and Bernard had gone somewhere quieter, an empty playground nearby, so they could talk. Tim had attempted to explain what had upset him and Bernard tried to understand. In the end they agreed that Bernard should be less casually flirtatious, especially when he and Tim had to pretend they weren’t together, and Tim should be more lenient, he knew Bernard was only being playful and he had agreed to respect that it was simply a part of who Bernard was.
“For someone so smart, you can be incredibly stupid,” a gentle laugh fell from Bernard’s lips, Tim had believed that Bernard was having regrets. “There is no one else, and,” he paused for a moment, smiling sheepishly, “I don’t think I want there to be anyone else. I love you, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.” If there was any uncertainty, Bernard didn’t show it.
As cheesy and cliché as it was, Tim could have sworn that time stopped when Bernard spoke. The creaking of the swing set, the rustle of leaves, it had all stopped as Bernard looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered. Tim rarely found himself at a loss for words, but as his face heated up it appeared as though all words he knew were simply gone.
After a few moments of a gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, Tim was able to recollect himself, shyly looking towards his shoes as a whisper, just loud enough for Bernard to hear, escaped his mouth.
“I love you too.”
One
There was never a valid reason for a wall covered in mirrors. Not in Tim’s mind, anyways. He was certain Dick, Jason, and occasionally even Stephanie had their fair share of checking themselves out, but the very thought of doing so left a sour taste in Tim's mouth.
This underground gym had more than likely been where it was since before Tim was born and yet it was always kept in perfect condition, props to Alfred. Not a single thing was left out of its place, not a single smudge was found on the mirror.
Usually Tim appreciated what Alfred did for the family, but keeping the mirrors clean was most certainly one of the few things he did not appreciate about the old man. The reason was plain and simple: Tim hated the way he looked.
The walls tainted with mirrors were an ever-present reminder of one of his many insecurities. As if the world was against him, some workouts required him to take his shirt off, lest he die of heat exhaustion.
A twisted pattern of ugly scars ran across his chest and back. He knew what he did was for the greater good but, much unlike his brothers, sisters and his father, the price, in his mind, was hardly worth it.
Two sets of footsteps drew Tim out of his bleak thoughts. One he recognized easily: Cassandra. The other he was beginning to familiarize himself with, though he couldn’t be sure he was hearing it right. He turned to see none other than his civilian boyfriend walking towards him in the Batcave.
Bernard had never been down here before, obvious from the way he was eyeing everything with a childlike wonder. His eyes glanced around the damp cave before settling on Tim. If it was possible for Bernard’s mouth to gape open wider, it most certainly did.
As much as Tim cared about Bernard, he did not want to face him right now. Not when the wrangled mess of his skin was on display. He turned around, fully aware that he was now facing the mirrors. Tilting his head down, away from the reflection, seemed most reasonable.
Despite facing away, the distinct footsteps did not hesitate in moving closer. Tim squeezed his eyes shut as he stood up straighter. The footsteps had stopped. Tim sighed before opening his eyes again, looking up to see Bernard’s reflection peering over the shoulder of his.
They locked eyes, Tim drinking in the solemn look he was given. He looked away, scanning his eyes over his own chest. The outline of his muscles under his skin were nowhere near as sharp as his brothers, soft lines shaping him, broken by the pinkened scar tissue that wrapped around him endlessly.
Bernard had stepped closer, his arms winded tenderly around Tim’s form. He was shorter than Tim now, unlike he had been when they had met. His chin settled on Tim’s shoulder, gazing gently at the two of them in the reflection.
Two weeks ago, Bernard had been told everything. It took him a few days to process, but they were now settling back into their old routine. Tim would be the only one in the family who could say he’s in a serious relationship.
Tim tilted his head slightly as Bernard moved, lightly pressing his lips to Tim’s shoulder and neck, peppering the scars in gentle kisses. The light stubble Bernard had begun to grow tickled Tim as he was doused in affection. “You’re beautiful, Robin.”
And that was all it took for Tim to smile idiotically at his reflection.
+ One
It had been milling over in his mind for weeks now, but the longer he put it off the harder it would be to do. The event was rapidly approaching and Tim had sworn to himself that he would ask Bernard.
Tim had been dating Bernard for a little two years now, but apart from family and a select few friends, no one knew. It was a safety precaution. Of course, as a son-of-a-billionaire by day, vigilante by night, telling the world that Bernard was one of the most important people to him would put Bernard in danger. There’s no better way to get at your enemies than hurting the people they love.
For the time that they had been together, Tim figured it would be best to keep their relationship away from the public; he did not want to get Bernard hurt. He had seen Bernard fight, he knew what Bernard was capable of, but he also knew that would not always be enough to keep him safe.
Since Bernard found out the big family secret, he had been working behind the scenes to help Tim and all the people he worked with in any way he could. He had even become somewhat friends with Oracle, also known as Barbara Gordon.
Of course Bernard did not go without being threatened by The Batman. He said something along the lines of ‘If you hurt Tim or compromise our work in any way, you’ll never be heard from again.’ Tim let Bernard know that he was partially joking.
They had sat side by side, silently watching footage of an android attack that had happened on the outskirts of Gotham a few hours prior, recorded via a low quality cell phone camera, but with the way Tim was tapping his fingers against Bernard’s thigh, it would be obvious to anyone that he was not paying attention.
“Tim?” his voice was quiet, timid, so very unlike Bernard. Tim turned to him, ceasing the tapping of his fingers. He was almost relieved at Bernard’s saddened expression; he would have to ask Bernard another time.
Tim tilted his head, letting Bernard know he was listening. The boy sighed, pulling at his sleeve before asking “Are you embarrassed to be with me?”
It was not something Tim ever thought Bernard could ask. He was always so sure of himself, confident in ways Tim could never imagine, and yet he now looked frightened, lost and confused. Tim noticed for the first time that Bernard had dark circles under his eyes. How long had Bernard been thinking this?
“No,” The answer was easy, “What made you think that?”
A nervous smile found its way on Bernard’s face. He seemed to be considering what he wanted to say. Tim traced a small heart where he had been tapping as he waited for Bernard to find his words. “We’ve been together for a long time, Tim. And if we’re gonna…” he shrugged, unsure, “stay together, people are gonna find out.”
He stopped, but by Tim’s brows creasing as he stared at his lap in contemplation, Bernard knew he needed to clarify.
"I get you’re scared of what’ll happen if people find out and you don’t need to tell anyone you’re not ready to tell but I need you to just,” he closed his eyes, leaning back against the black leather chair they were sharing, “It’s not ‘cause it’s me, is it?”
He rolled his head over to look at Tim, soft baby-blue eyes filled with concern. Tim realized that this was his chance to ask. It had taken almost a month for him to convince Bruce to let him, he wasn’t going to let his extra patrol shifts go to waste.
Taking Bernard’s hand in his, Tim finally confessed what had been causing his anxious habits to resurface. “I’ve been meaning to ask something, actually.” Bernard squeezes Tim’s hand, but tilts his head with a confused look.
“Bruce has these Galas every year,” he explained, “half of Gotham’s gonna be there but,” he bit back a smile, “I was hoping you’d be my date?”
Any negative expression had melted from Bernard’s face as his eyes lit up. “You want me to go to the Wayne Gala with you?”
Tim could no longer force down the smile at the excitement in Bernard’s voice. He leaned his head on the other’s shoulder, “Yea, I think,” he laughed, “Bernie, you’re my person, and I think I wanna stay with you.” Bernard understood Tim well enough to know what he meant by that.
Though the reporters outside the Gala may have had a frenzy, begging the two for answers to their questions as they entered the venue, arm in arm, it didn’t make a difference to Tim. In that moment, nothing else mattered but Bernard.