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“You’re fucking with me.”
Tim ignored the disgruntled annoyance on Bruce’s face that came in reply to the cursing ― he felt he was justified, on this one.
“You’re fucking with me.” He repeated, staring into the video feed on his phone in a strange mixture of half-disbelief, half-insult, “You expect me to share a hotel room with him? Are you insane? He’s gonna kill me in my sleep, Bruce!”
On the other end of the line, Bruce sighed. He seemed more annoyed than exasperated, but that was pretty much standard fare for Bruce nowadays. Tim didn’t take it personally anymore.
“You’ll survive one night.” Bruce said, in that no-nonsense, I’m-done-arguing-with-you tone he liked to use, “Don’t act like a child, Tim.”
Before Tim could respond with an extremely eloquent, “Suck my dick”, the man had already hung up. Because of course he had.
Tim couldn’t help bristling ― he didn’t know how Dick still put up with the guy often enough to come see them. Honestly. Bruce was just… Ugh.
First he pulls out that voice, the one that used to shut Tim up on the spot, and then he tells him not to act like a kid and hangs up on him?
Fuck that guy.
He glared at his phone for another long, long moment.
Admittedly, Bruce was right ― chances were that he’d survive one night sharing a hotel room with Damian, since the likelihood of them killing each other in eight hours was in the single-digits considering they’d managed the last several years ―, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. Given a little more advanced warning he could have prepared for it and went along easily, you know? But Bruce decided to tell him after they left for their mission, and fifteen minutes before they were supposed to check in at the hotel.
He hadn’t even brought his headphones, and now he was regretting it immensely.
Ugh, whatever.
He’d just have to check and see if he had any earplugs in his utility belt.
Ignoring each other was the easiest way to survive, and they were both getting pretty good at it.
Damian joined him on the sidewalk ― it was a late flight into the city, and it was pretty quiet, so the sound of his footsteps almost echoed around them. “I assume that was Father?”
Tim pulled his face into a neutral mask, dismissing the annoyance to be dealt with later. Venting his frustration on Damian was tempting, since he could take it as well as he could dish it out, but getting into a fight with him now wasn’t at all conducive to getting through the night safely. On either of their ends.
“Yeah,” He answered, after a moment, “Guess we’re rooming together for the night.”
Damian’s previously blank face twitched ― nose scrunching, lips turning down. “Why?”
He fought to keep his own expression neutral, not rise to the unintentional bait that the displeasure on Damian’s face was. “Apparently that was all they had available on such short notice,” He explained, “And he hung up on me before I could ask why he didn’t just pick another hotel.”
A low snort, then, “Very well. I suppose we will simply have to make it work.”
“Suppose so.”
Tim was banking on the idea that Dick’s influence must have softened Damian more than he thought it had as they both climbed into the taxi that pulled in a moment later. He was certainly less stabby these days than he had been when he’d first entered the picture, and Tim thought Dick must have rubbed off on him at least a little bit.
Just enough.
Hopefully.
He definitely hadn’t rubbed off on him enough to make him any less of a bastard.
Sure, they managed with each other better now than they used to, and generally their fights were nothing but arguments leading into shouting and then freezing each other out for days instead of jumping right into straight up trying to kick the shit out of each other, but they definitely still fought. Often.
They got into the room with little issue.
But then, well.
“One bed?” Damian asked from just behind him, with clear disdain, “How irresponsible.”
“Couldn’t even get a room with a couch,” Tim grumbled, in reply, mentally resigning himself to the idea that he’d likely be sleeping on the floor tonight, “Don’t know why I still put up with him.”
Damian, as expected, merely responded with a quiet, “Tt.”
It was quiet between them as they took turns readying themselves for bed. Then, Tim busied himself with stealing a pillow off the bed and digging the emergency blanket out of his luggage. May as well be comfortable on the floor.
Before he could get his scant, makeshift bed situated, though, he heard Damian tut again.
Turning his head to glance at the other teen, he raised a brow.
“What are you doing, Drake?” Damian asked, as if he cared, crossing his legs where he sat on the far side of the bed.
“Sleeping on the floor,” He said, flatly, because he’d thought that much was obvious.
“Tt.” Said Damian, so eloquently, “This is a large bed, Drake, you do not need to sleep on the floor to avoid touching me.”
Tim quashed down the irritation he felt the best he could ― admittedly, at this point, he wasn’t even irritated with Damian, in particular, he was just… Tired, and annoyed with this mission and with Bruce. He was going on 23 hours of no sleep, now, so he was feeling waspish.
“Tt.” He retorted, mocking the sound before he could stop himself, “Figured you’d prefer it that way, your Highness.”
For once, Damian did not rise to the bait. He merely raised a brow and said, “Get on the bed, Drake.”
They stared at each other for a long moment until, finally, Tim heaved a sigh and obeyed.
He sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Damian, and for another moment all they did was stare. There was plenty of room between them, Tim noted, so Damian was probably right about there being ample room to avoid touching him.
Surprisingly, Damian was the one who broke eye contact first.
He tutted, quietly, turning away to turn off the lamp on his side of the bed, then getting situated beneath the covers. And after staring at his back for several minutes, Tim heaved a sigh and did the same. Some sleep would do him some good.
He woke, slowly, to a warm weight against his chest and his nose buried in someone’s hair.
Still half-asleep, he hummed in contentment and curled his arm tighter around the waist of whoever he was cuddling, pulling them closer as he breathed in a deep lungful of the smell of them.
It was the smell that jolted him awake.
Axe.
Apollo.
The scent of shampoo and body wash Dick had used since the first time he’d seen it in stores, and Damian had taken to using when he’d lived with him.
He jerked back, a bit, blinking bleary eyes open, to find Damian fast asleep, curled half-in on himself except where Tim had a knee wedged between his. They were facing each other, but Damian’s head was angled down as if he’d been tucked up beneath Tim’s chin ― which, actually, he had been.
Tim was having a hard time processing it.
But he… Wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to pull away.
He was comfortable.
And it was definitely still dark out, so…
Maybe he could get away with staying like that for a while longer.
He moved back in, slowly, trying to make sure he didn’t wake Damian up. Pulled himself close, again, burying his face back into Damian’s hair. He breathed in. Sighed.
Damian was definitely going to kill him when he woke up.
For now, though…
Sleep was tugging at him again.
He gave in.
“... ake.”
He groaned, trying to snatch back the vestiges of sleep as they fled from him.
Why was he awake?
“Drake.”
Who…?
“Drake.”
Oh.
Damian.
He groaned again, peeking one eye open to look up at him. He was sitting up, already, looking down at him. Oh boy. Here it came…
“Wh…?” He managed to grumble, hoping it’d convince Damian to kill him and get it over with.
… Why were Damian’s cheeks red?
Nothing else about him seemed to be necessarily bothered by the fact that he’d probably woken up tucked against Tim’s chest, but maybe he was flustered over the vulnerability it implied?
“It is time for us to get up.” Damian said, glancing away, “So get up.”
And he slipped out of bed without another word, likely going to get ready.
… Huh.
Okay.
Maybe Tim wasn’t getting murdered today.
At least not by Damian, yet.
He eased himself out of bed with a few grunts and groans, stretching carefully until the problem spots in his neck and back finally, blessedly, gave a chorus of cracking and popping that relieved a great deal of the tension.
He was still finishing blinking the sleep out of his eyes, grabbing at his bag, when Damian emerged. Dressed and ready, by the looks of things.
“Your morning breath is horrendous,” Damian noted, as he entered the bathroom, “By the way.”
He felt himself turn red as he all but slammed the bathroom door behind him in his rush to put space between them. Ugh, God, of course. Of course Damian would do it like this ― he was going to hold it over his head for the rest of their lives, wasn’t he? Just keep ribbing him about it until it stopped bothering him.
Okay.
Okay, he could handle that.
And if he brushed his teeth a little more forcefully than normal, well, that was nobody’s business.
When he emerged, it was quiet once more.
Of course, in the end, the mission ended up needing to be extended.
Bruce said little on the subject, merely sending a message informing them that he’d paid for another week in the room, just in case.
Tim couldn’t help grumbling to himself as they returned to the hotel around three in the morning. He’d been hoping to be falling asleep on a plane right about now, or better yet falling asleep in his own bed.
Instead, he was once again sharing a room, and a bed, with Damian.
They both dressed down again, and both slid into bed on opposite sides.
“Drake,” Damian said, before Tim managed to get comfortable enough to sleep.
He sighed. Turned over to look at him and was unsurprised to find him facing him and staring.
“Yeah?”
“I…” Damian began, only to avert his gaze after a moment, “I… Enjoyed… Waking up as I did today.”
Translation, I want to cuddle.
This, and the lack of actual fighting they’d been doing, was surreal, but… Oh well. Tim wasn’t going to complain about what might very well be a good change in their dynamic. Maybe Dick really had rubbed off on Damian.
“Yeah,” He said, instead of any of that, “I did, too, mostly.”
Translation, Okay, let’s cuddle.
Damian’s cheeks were red again as they both got situated ― Damian tucking himself up against Tim’s chest and curling in on himself a bit, Tim burying his face into Damian’s hair and laying an arm over his side. For a long moment, Damian was stiff as a board next to him.
But then, slowly, the tension seemed to ease out of him.
Tim felt himself relax a bit, as well.
One of Damian’s hands curled into a fist, slowly, gripping at his shirt, and he let it happen.
Damian’s breathing evened out, and Tim was struck with the knowledge that Damian had fallen asleep in his arms.
Oh boy.
Ohhhh boy.
He didn’t think he liked where his brain went after that realization ― thoughts of how cute Damian could be when he wasn’t being insufferable, how soft his hair was, how easily flustered he got, how he couldn’t even directly ask to be cuddled even though he was normally the most direct person that he’d ever met. Thoughts of maybe doing this even when they didn’t need to share a bed.
He had a hard time falling asleep while battling those thoughts.
“May I try something you may be repulsed by?”
Not the question he was expecting, when they laid down the next early morning.
“... Sure?”
Damian wriggled out from uner his chin, and he blinked at the other teen when, for a moment, all he did was look at him.
His mind raced with possibilities. Reasons that Damian was asking to try something, what it might be. He was almost afraid.
And, in fact, he was so busy overthinking it that the next thing he knew, Damian was kissing him.
He froze, blinking at Damian’s too-close, blurry face for the sparse few seconds it took for him to pull back.
“Apologies.” The other said, cheeks red, pointedly not looking at him, “I…”
Tim lifted the hand that was on his side, and cupped his cheek. He didn’t let himself think. He just pulled Damian back to him and pressed a kiss to his lips in return. And Damian jolted, breath leaving him, but he didn’t pull away. He seemed hesitant as he returned the slow movements that Tim started, but Tim could hardly focus on it.
Something about kissing him just felt so good.
Ha, who knew kissing his boss’ son would feel this nice?
He slowly pulled back, a moment later, and watched Damian’s face for a reaction. It didn’t even occur to him to remove his hand from his face ― when he noticed he hadn’t, he couldn’t help tracing his thumb over Damian’s crimson cheek.
Damian peeked his eyes open, and Tim had never seen him look so unsure.
“Nothing to apologize for,” He told him, trying to ignore how hoarse his voice was, “You just caught me off guard.”
Damian gave a weak nod, as if to let Tim know he’d heard him, eyes flickering across the room around them instead of settling on Tim’s face. He swallowed.
Tim took a breath, and he resumed tracing his thumb over Damian’s cheek.
“... Can…” Damian began, “... We do that again?”
“Yeah,” He breathed.
They kissed again.
And again.
And again.
When it started getting a little too heated, Tim took it upon himself to try and have some self-control. He pulled back, breathing hard, and met Damian’s wide green eyes. He was red all the way to the tips of his ears.
It was cute.
“Fuck,” Tim said, weakly.
Damian snorted.
Shook with silent laughter as he glanced away.
Tim couldn’t seem to look away from him.
He was so… Pretty when he laughed.
When he smiled.
“I should have expected that you would be more experienced in this than I am,” Damian finally said, softly.
Somehow, Tim was certain that meant that Damian had never been kissed before tonight.
Well.
He’d fixed that, and he was gonna keep on fixing that.
It was like he couldn’t resist leaning back in for a quick peck.
The urge was simply too strong ― he leaned in without a second thought. Stole another quick, gentle kiss.
They laid there for a long moment, and Tim’s mind eventually started down a particular train of thought. One he wished he could say he’d never gone down before.
But, as much as he’d like to pretend that this was sudden, that he had had a sudden, recent change of heart about how he felt about Damian, the truth was that this had been a long time coming. He’d felt the shift start when they were fifteen or sixteen, and by now it was just… Part of his life.
He knew he liked Damian a lot, and it was part of why he couldn’t help fighting with him any time the opportunity presented itself ― he was pathetic and would take whatever chance he could to have some interaction that didn’t involve both of them trying very hard to just be polite on the rare occasions they saw each other off-patrol.
And he wondered, now that this had happened, now that this shift had occurred in their relationship, if things would go back to the way they’d been before, or if something would change permanently… For better or worse.
He wondered, and hated himself for wondering, if maybe Damian felt the same for him as he did for Damian, but stopped short of hoping for it.
All he could reasonably hope for, truly, was that this wouldn’t have a negative effect on their already rocky relationship.
“You okay?” Tim asked, softly, squeezing Damian’s hand in his, “We don’t have to do this.”
Beside him, Damian sighed and squeezed his hand in return. “I’m fine. And I… I want him to know.”
Yeah.
Tim wanted him to know, too.
The last four years had been hellish ― not telling Dick they’d gotten together to begin with had been rough on its own. Keeping it a secret was difficult in practice, and admittedly Tim had gotten to the point where it bothered him that no one knew.
Especially that Dick didn’t know.
If anyone wouldn’t damn them for it, it’d be Dick. He would support them wholeheartedly.
… He hoped.
“Let’s do it, then,” He said, and pulled him toward the door, “He’s probably getting curious by now.”
Damian nodded, following willingly, and the two of them emerged into the living room from their shared bedroom quietly. Dick was on the couch where they’d left him a few moments ago, politely looking around at the decor without commenting on anything. They’d invited him over because they wanted to finally tell him that they were dating, and had been for some time, and that was why Damian had packed up and moved out of the Manor two months ago.
After all, telling him was long overdue, and he’d been wondering out loud to both of them how they were managing living in a one-bedroom apartment together for the last month and a half.
“Dick,” Tim said, squeezing Damian’s hand again, “We have something we want to tell you.”
Dick glanced up at them, keen eyes catching on their hands between them before flicking up to their faces. If he had any thoughts on why they were holding hands, he didn’t verbalize them ― just raised a brow and cocked his head.
“What’s up?” He asked, like this wasn’t the most nerve-wracking thing Tim had done in weeks.
Tim felt like his tongue had swelled and glued itself to the roof of his mouth, because he just couldn’t seem to get himself to say anything.
Damian blew out a quiet breath next to him.
“Baba,” He said, softly, “Tim and I…”
He trailed, and Tim realized he must be just as nervous as he was.
And now here they both were, staring at Dick like deer in the headlights and unable to verbalize the thing they so desperately wanted to tell him.
Dick watched them for a long moment, silent, likely waiting for one of them to tell him whatever it was they’d called him here for.
But then, finally, he sighed, smiling, and said, “You’re both really that nervous, huh?”
Damian gave a helpless nod, and Tim echoed it.
“Whatever it is,” Dick said, in that tone that said he already knew and was just waiting for them to tell him, “You know it won’t change anything, right? I’m gonna love you both no matter what.”
Damian said something in strained, quick Arabic ― Tim didn’t quite catch it, but whatever he’d said, it had Dick smiling and standing up.
“I know, Dami.” He said, and crossed the short distance between them and the couch to pull them both into a crushing hug, “I know, but I’m so happy you finally told me.”
Tim felt Damian sag into the hug, and he let himself relax as well.
Dick knew.
He knew, probably for a long time.
He had just been waiting for them to be ready to tell him.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Dick told them, softly, “I’m so happy for you two.”
Tim let himself sink into the hug as well.
He thought he might cry.