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Tim could have done without the incessant beeping, to be honest, so high-pitched and close to his ear. What a wonderful way to wake up. Without opening his eyes, he threw his hand up somewhere around the headboard and blindly grabbed for his earpiece. It was a little painful and very unwanted, but he eventually got it situated in his ear enough to turn it on.
“Red Robin here, even though the sun is up,” he groused. His voice was thick and heavy with exhaustion. Well-deserved exhaustion, he might add. This had to be a catastrophic emergency to get his attention.
“Morning to you too, Tim,” Barbara quipped. “Thought I would be the lovely person that I am and warn you - ”
“Unless the world is on fire, I don’t care right now.”
“Your world is about to be on fire. Once Bruce watches last night’s feed.”
Tim sighed and turned fully onto his back. This conversation was going to take a minute or two. “And why do I care about that?”
“Tim, you know our masks record everything until taken off, right?”
“Yes, Babs, I designed them.”
“Then why didn’t you take yours off last night?”
Tim screwed up his nose. Now that he was more awake, he could feel his mask pulling at the skin on his cheeks and brows. “Too tired,” he muttered. “So what? Bruce gets, what, five-hour feed of looking at the ceiling or pillow?”
“Is that all you did last night?”
The bed groaned. Rough fingertips blindly grasped at Tim’s waist as his bedmate turned towards him. Then everything slammed back into focus.
The fight hadn’t been particularly hard or particularly draining. The Titans did what they did best, cleaned up the mess, and departed ways. However, one look at Kon in his torn jeans, wind-swept hair, and deep blue eyes, and Tim didn’t give two shits about the world around him. He needed his boyfriend, and he needed him now. Kon, with a cocked eyebrow, knew.
They may or may not have flown off without a word. They may or may not have had to stop a few times mid-flight because Kon was too hot for Tim to handle. They may or may not have been half-naked before they’d found Tim’s apartment and flown to bed.
Tim shot straight up, eyes flying open behind an askew domino mask, and felt all the air in his lungs vacate. Kon groaned somewhere behind him, but he didn’t care.
Before he even asked himself, Barbara said, “Yes, you did. And I’d advise you fix it before Bruce finds it.”
Did he forget to take off his uniform in a civilian area? Yes, yes he did. Did he forget to take off his mask when he got home? Yes, yes he did. Did he accidentally record his first sexual experience with his super-hot, Super clone boyfriend with his mask? Yes, yes he did. Did he accidentally upload a homemade porno of him and his boyfriend to the fucking Batcomputer, which was accessible to every member of the Batfamily? Yes, yes he fucking did.
“Babs, you gotta delete it!”
“I can’t or I already would have, Tim. You redesigned the Batcomputer’s back up system. You designed the domino mask recording system. And I’m on my way to work anyway. I don’t have time to go to the Manor to fix it. It’s almost seven now.”
“Ok, I’ve got some time,” Tim said as he rolled out of bed and ran to his closet. He ripped off the mask, tossed it somewhere behind him then threw open the closet doors. “Bruce doesn’t usually look at the feed until nine, eight-thirty if he’s got morning meetings. I can – wait.” He stopped and look at nothing in particular as he asked, “How much did you see?”
Barbara laughed. “Enough to know who tops. So I win the bet.”
“What bet?”
“Ask Jason. Anyway, you’re forgetting a little terror who watches the feeds earlier than Bruce does.”
If there was any color left in Tim’s face, it was now long gone. Bruce seeing the video was one thing. He was a certified playboy both in the news and in his earlier years. He’d understand. It would be hypocritical if he said anything different. His thirteen-year-old heir, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. Tim was not going to be the one responsible for a video demonstration of the Gay Birds and Gay Bees.
"Shit shit shitshit!” Tim yelled. He grabbed at some jeans and a shirt – was it his? He didn’t really care – and threw them on. His shoulder banged into the closet door loud enough that he knew Kon couldn’t sleep through it. Tim wasn’t really sure if he’d been sleeping through this crisis anyway.
“Well, have a lovely day, Tim. I’m out.” The line cut and Tim was left to his inner monologue. Which just consisted of shit! in varying volumes and languages.
“If you’re having morning-after remorse, you don’t have to be so loud about it,” Kon grumbled as he stumbled over to Tim. “You could have just said we’re done and – “
“I accidentally uploaded us having sex to the Batcomputer, Kon!” Thank God for soundproofing his apartment because Tim was no longer in control of his voice.
Any other time in his life, Tim would actually enjoy the sight before him. Connor Kent dressed in nothing but boxer briefs, the poster child for simultaneously adorable and sexy bed-head, muscles flexing and relaxing as he moved. Any other time in his life, Tim would be begging for round two. Or five? Maybe he could get a copy of his video and –
Kon’s eyes widened as his brain processed what Tim has just said. “Well, I’m dead,” he finally muttered.
“I can delete it before Bruce sees it, but we have to hurry.” Tim threw a shirt at Kon. It probably wouldn’t fit seeing as Kon was taller, broader, and just overall bigger than Tim. But a shirt was better than no shirt. “Damian watches the feed too. He has to be at school at eight? I don’t know. It’s just gone seven.”
“Why can’t you delete it from your glove thing?” There was an unmistakable ripping sound as Kon pulled the shirt down over his chest. It barely passed his nipples before he gave up and left it bunched up.
Tim shoved his feet into a pair of tennis shoes and barely made an attempt at tying the laces. “Jason kept deleting feed from his gauntlet, so I made it to where we can’t do that. Deleting evidence and all. But it’s backed up four times over so we can’t lose data, and all of it centers in the Cave. I need to delete it from the main computer first then delete it from the rest of our devices. That’ll be easier once I get to the Batcomputer.”
Kon managed to find one of his shirts that he’d left with Tim before and pulled that on instead. Sometime during Tim’s panicking, he’d put his ripped jeans and dirty boots back on. Vacuuming and laundry – task for another time.
“I’m not allowed near the Manor,” Kon reminded him, “so I can get you to the property line and, I guess, wait for you?”
“He’ll notice and notify Clark to come get you. Again.” Tim ran over to the open window and reached out to Kon.
His boyfriend sped over, hoisted him close to his chest, and leapt out. This was another thing they knew they shouldn’t do, but what was worse: people knowing that Tim Drake-Wayne was courting Superboy or his family seeing the sex tape? He could deal with the press later if it came to that.
In a matter of minutes, Kon gently placed Tim on his feet at the property line of Wayne Manor. His hands shook, and his breathing was unsteady, and his grip was just a tad too tight. Tim wanted to console him and say it was alright. He was a great liar, after all. But they both knew this would be the biggest lie Tim would ever utter. So instead, he took his own steadying breath, gave Kon the smallest, quickest kiss on the cheek, then sprinted towards the Manor.
“I’ll call you!” he shouted into the wind as he started up the steps. He wasn’t sure if it was the blood rushing in his ears or if he actually heard Kon fly off towards safety. Whatever that meant.
The doors opened before Tim could reach them, and Alfred gave him a warm smile. “Ah, Master Timothy, how wonderful – “
“Can’t, Alfred!” Tim used his momentum to run at the doorframe, put his foot up on the wall, then pushed himself over the old butler. Alfred didn’t even flinch as Tim rolled on the foyer floor and vaulted towards the grandfather clock.
If he’d been less panicked, more Robin-like, he may have noticed who was and wasn’t present as he parkoured his way through the Manor. He may have seen Jason’s smirk in the kitchen. He may have seen Cass’s confusion. He may have heard Duke’s shout. He may have not seen Damian or Dick or Bruce. He may have been more poised about everything and not made a spectacle. But he wasn’t Red Robin right now.
As he descended into the Cave, he glanced at his watch. 7:24. Was he too late?
The chair in front of the Batcomputer was turned away from Tim as he ran closer. He didn’t see Bruce’s wide shoulders poking out the sides, but he also couldn’t hear Damian’s muttered commentary. Maybe he was going to be just fine.
As he reached for it, the chair swiveled around to show Dick’s smirk over steepled fingers. The only color returning to Tim’s face now was green as he suddenly felt violently ill. This was probably worse.
“What are you doing here, Dick?” Tim asked, his voice wavering as he stared at his oldest brother.
“Babs called,” Dick said plainly. “Said there was some footage that our dear Damikins shouldn’t see and could I please keep him away from the feed until you got here. I asked her what in the world our sweet Timmy could have done to warrant such a request, but she wouldn’t answer me. Mind telling me?”
Ok, so Dick didn’t know. Or he did, and he was lying. He was the first Robin, after all, and knew the tricks better than anyone. But he was honest and kind unless Jason and Damian.
Tim felt a knot form in his throat and tried to swallow it down. He could feel his brain working so quickly that it wasn’t moving. Everything was white noise.
“It’s…personal,” he tried. Lamely. He cringed. It sounded horrible even to his ears, so it would sound worse to anyone else.
“Got that, Tim.” Dick rolled his eyes. “Alright, so you don’t have to tell me exactly what happened, but at least on a scale of one to ten, how bad?”
“Thirty, at least.”
“Nah, I’d give it a six and a half,” came a voice from behind him.
Tim wasn’t going to groan. He wasn’t going to say anything. His body didn’t listen. Something – a groan, a whimper, an unholy combination of the two – crawled its way out of his throat and got strangled behind clenched teeth. Reluctantly, Tim turned his head enough to see Jason smirking and walking towards them.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tim grit out.
“Conner’s about six-three, six-four, right? So it’s about six-point-five damage.” Jason tapped the right side of his throat then the left side of his collarbone.
Tim looked down. Sure enough just over the collar of his shirt was a large, dark, unmistakable hickey. He dropped his chin to his chest and willed himself not to groan again.
“Jayce, he’s six-one,” Dick corrected. The teasing lilt in his voice was going to cause Tim to snap. Would Batman arrest his own son for murder if Nightwing and Red Hood suddenly disappeared? “It’s those boots of his that make him taller.”
“Can you please just leave?” Tim pleaded.
“Bet it’s a steamy make-out,” Jason sang as he inched towards the computer. “Did you cop a feel during your fight yesterday?”
“Not our sweet, innocent Timothy.” Dick faux-gasped as he placed a hand over his heart. He kicked a foot out to hold Tim at bay as the younger man tried to run at Jason. “Besides, that’s nothing new to us. We’ve all done it.”
“On camera?” Tim grunted as he ducked around Dick’s next kick and finally grabbed Jason.
“On camera. In-person. Here. On the field. At the Watchtower.” Jason didn’t even gasp as Tim punched him. “But if it’s got you this wound up, I’m sure it’s extra spicy.”
Tim was going to murder them, and no jury in Gotham would convict him. And if they did, Kon could whisk him away so he could re-imagine his entire identity to escape prison.
Jason grabbed Tim’s arm the next swing, brought it up over the shorter man’s head, and bent it behind him as his face met the Batcomputer’s keyboard. Then he pulled and shoved Tim into the chair Dick had apparently vacated. Tim was too angry and ashamed and nervous to have put up a proper fight. It was evident now in how easily Jason had overpowered him without weapons.
“You’re a kid, Tim. Shit like that happens.”
“I’m twenty, and it’s personal.”
“We’re Bats; nothing is personal.”
The teasing and the cool, calm attitudes were getting to him.
Dick opened his mouth -
“It’s sex, ok? I didn’t take off my mask and accidentally recorded me and Kon having sex and now I need to delete it.”
Jason and Dick froze. Dick’s eyes widened as scanned Tim’s face, likely noting how the pale complexion had suddenly reddened to a deep burgundy. Jason, on the other hand, bit his lower lip and looked away with his hand over his mouth. Aborted noises rumbled in his chest, almost matching the beating in Tim’s ears. He could barely hear as the echo of his words finally dissipated from the Cave.
“Please,” he pled, quiet and full of shame, “let me delete it before Bruce finds out.”
“Too late for that.” Dick pointed behind Tim as Jason full-on cackled.
Tim froze as steady footsteps closed in behind him. When they stopped, Tim stopped breathing.
“While I am…happy,” Bruce practically ground his teeth as he said it, “for you taking your relationship with Kon-El seriously, an hour feed of your sexual preferences was not on my viewing agenda today.”
“An hour?! Wow, Timbo, your man’s got stamina!” Jason howled with laughter again then stammered, “W-wait, wait, tell-tell me, who topped? I gotta-gotta b-bet with Babs.”
Tim heard a deep growl behind him, but that didn’t stop Jason’s laughter. Dick, on the other hand, had the decency to look embarrassed for Tim. Or at least suffering from second-hand embarrassment.
Knowing he couldn’t ignore it any longer, Tim turned on his heel to face his adoptive father. Bruce didn’t look terribly angry with Tim, but he certainly wasn’t pleased.
“You didn’t actually watch it, did you?” Tim asked, somewhere between scandalized and angry.
“Of course not,” Bruce said calmly.
“Wouldn’t that be child porn seeing as Kon’s only, like, seven?” Dick asked as blasé as possible.
“You. Out. You too, Jason.” Bruce glared at his older sons and waited for them to leave.
Now Tim was sure he was going to die from embarrassment.
When the Cave was quiet again and only Tim’s white noise brain finally forming thoughts again did Bruce speak.
“I’ve already informed Clark,” Bruce said. “Not the specifics, just that you are pursuing a sexual relationship with Kon for any Kryptonian sexual education he may need to bring to your attention. As such, I want you to take the condoms I made for Dick’s relationship with Starfire. Should work with – “
“Did you actually watch it? All of it?” Tim asked again.
Bruce studied him for a moment. “No, I didn’t. I saw the time stamp from the end of the fight and cut it off there. Any time after that is yours and yours alone.”
“And Barbara’s,” Tim groused. “But how did you know it was an hour?”
“I didn’t.” Bruce gave him a small smirk. “I felt that was enough time for minimal teasing from your brothers. Their first times were much shorter.”
With that, Bruce turned on his heel and made his way out of the Cave.
______________________________________
A week later and Tim hadn’t heard the last of it from his brothers. Damian was, thankfully, out of the loop but not entirely. He was smart enough to know something had happened, but he was also not interested enough to find out what. The moment he heard ‘Kon’, he checked out and walked away. Time wasn’t so lucky with Steph as she, like Jason, cackled and asked questions. Cass simply nodded and walked away. So Tim tried to stay away.
A small package was stuck under his doormat when he returned to his apartment. He picked it up and looked it over as he made his way inside. Simple bubble manila envelope the size of his hand with something small and hard inside. He tore it open to find a simple black memory stick. On one side, it had Barbara’s signature Oracle symbol. On the other, there was a small heart written in red paint pen.
A note fell out.
For personal use only. And Kon’s.
Could Tim get away with killing Oracle too?