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There was someone watching him from the doorway of his room. From the unease and uncertainty that raised in his chest, Tim knew exactly what was going on.
It was him.
A pause.
Breathing that wasn't his own.
Tim was over it.
"Okay, enough. Damian, what are you doing in my room?" Tim swings his chair around to face the kid, who was standing with his arms by his side. Back straight like he was receiving orders from Bruce.
Damian blinks, "Timothy."
"That can't be good," Tim says immediately in response, ignoring the scowl that comes up on the youngest Wayne's face. "You never call me that, what do you want?"
"You are leaving soon." Damian says briskly, taking a wide step over some clothes that were left discarded on the floor.
"Yeah?" He replies, "On a date with Bernard–"
He stops mid sentence.
"No." He refuses, "Whatever you want, no. I'm not letting you ruin it "
Damian's face scrunches up with that distaste that could only be produced by the kid. Absolute weapon, he was. "To assume I'd want anything to do with it means you know little of me."
Tim sighs, a little bit of relief itching through his shoulders.
"It's Richard."
Scratch that, no more relief.
"No." He says again, "Tell Dick no and that he can take you himself."
"Richard said I could come."
"You're not coming on my date."
How did it end up this way again? It was something Dick said about having no one to watch the monster of a ten year old.
Bruce was off-world. Alfred was on a well deserved vacation. Cass was somewhere undetermined. Duke was studying for an exam with his classmates. Stephanie had no obligation. Kate was out of the country. Jason outright refused.
That left him; Tim Drake who was going on a date with his boyfriend.
He had plans for god's sake! This was not fair in the slightest.
"Drake. I really should not care for your clothing choices, but that shirt looks terrible. Pick a new one." Damian says with crossed arms, peering at Tim with squinted eyes.
"This is the third time you've said that." Tim drawls. Looking, sounding, and feeling displeased.
"I am right each time, of course." Damian replies, starting to look bored. "To believe you were raised in high class is completely unimaginable. Have you regressed that much?"
"You know, that's starting to sound like an insult to Bruce." Tim says, already pulling his shirt off and picking through for another one. Not because he cared about Damian's opinion, of course.
Damian doesn't confirm nor deny the accusation, instead he hums in consideration when Tim pulls out a new shirt.
"Is this okay enough for you, brat?" He questions, holding the shirt up against his chest.
Damian sniffs, turning his nose upright. "It is…" He stops with the click of his tongue, because the kid is desperately lacking the ability to compliment. "... Acceptable."
"Fantastic." Tim huffs, waving his hand, "Now shoo."
Damian does as he's told for once.
…How was he going to explain this to Bernard?
The shirt slips on with ease, it was a tiny bit oversized. He's pretty sure this shirt was Bernard's to begin with.
Jacket or no jacket? It wasn't the coldest afternoon that it could be, but maybe just in case…
He sends a couple texts to Bernard in quick succession. First apologising, second explaining the situation, third expanding that if he wished to reschedule that was perfectly okay. Tim was half hoping that Bernard would cancel, having Damian third wheel their date sounded terrible.
Bernard had simply replied with a ‘LOL’ and followed up by saying ‘I’ll see u at 3’.
It was half past two now, he’d be leaving soon to pick up Bernard… Tim shrugs the black and grey jacket over his shoulders, slipping his arms through the sleeves.
When he opens the door, he jumps. Damian peers up at him blankly.
“Jesus Christ Damian.” He says, holding his hand to his chest, “You cannot jump out at me like that.”
“I did not jump out at you.” Damian says with a tight lipped frown, “I was just standing here.”
“Well can you do it without scaring the hell out of me?” He quips with a sigh, shaking his head as he walks past the kid. Damian follows behind him with his arms crossed and that ever so petulant look on his face. “Get your shoes on.”
Damian scowls, but disappears off towards his room to hopefully do as he’s told. Tim raises his voice, “And grab something to keep yourself busy! If you get bored it’s not my fault!”
There’s a distant grumbled yell that he doesn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to, whatever is said is completely lost to his ear.
Tim shakes his head when he sees Damian. “You’re not wearing shorts out.” He says quickly, having now just comprehended what the kid was wearing. Not only was he wearing a short sleeve, (acceptable, as Tim was wearing the same thing) but he was wearing shorts too. It was far too cold out for that.
Ignore that he had just said that it wasn’t cold enough to warrant the obligation of a jacket.
“Richard and Todd went out at night in shorts. I can handle an afternoon.” Damian bites back with crossed arms.
“You are not Dick or Jason–”
“–I pride myself everyday for being unlike them.”
“–You’re wearing pants.” Tim declares, placing his hands on Damian’s shoulders to swing him around. Damian bristles with disgust, and Tim pushes him forward. “Go. Now. We’ll be running late.”
“I swear, Drake.” Damian mumbles something with a light threat at the end of it.
“Now.” Tim reminds, watching as he runs off up the stairs towards the bedroom wing of the manor.
A couple minutes pass, and Damian returns with much more appropriate dress. There’s childish retorts thrown his way, but they’re up and moving and out the door in record time… which is ten minutes later than when Tim had originally expected to leave.
…He also ends up carrying Damian’s bag, much to his dismay.
“If we’re going to do this, then we need to set down some ground rules.”
“Tt. I see no reason.”
“Do not embarrass me–”
“You’ll do that yourself, I’m sure.”
“Don’t attempt on either of our lives while we’re out.”
“I cannot promise you that.”
“Let me rephrase that. You will not attempt on either of our lives.”
“Tt.”
“At least try to make a good impression?”
“You think so lowly of me, Drake. I’m nothing but a joy to be around.”
“Was that a joke?”
“Hardly.”
Damian follows behind him by two or three metres, with the claim of not wanting to be seen in public with Tim. He rolls his eyes as they come across the familiar looking house. Tim takes the climb of five steps, knocking on the door.
A minute passes, and the door is swung open. Bernard graces him with a smile and a hug. A kiss pressed to the edge of his lips.
“Hey.” Tim greets, his hands coming to rest on Bernard’s arms.
“Hey yourself.” Bernard returns.
Cough. Cough.
Tim feels all his elation spill away into a puddle of absolutely nothing and despair. He’d almost forgotten about his little brother. Almost.
The two of them make the couple steps down to where Damian stands with his arms crossed on the pavement. Damian sneers, not so cheerfully as Bernard was.
“Damian.” Tim reminds, his tone pointed.
“It’s fine, Tim.” Bernard says with the shake of his head, he looks down with a faint smile, heavenly compared to the glowering expression that is placed on Damian’s face.
“Dowd.” Damian greets, head tilted up with a snooted look. He extends his hand with the stiffness of a soldier being reprimanded by his commander.
“Damian,” Bernard says, greeting and meeting Damian halfway with the handshake. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
So far, Bernard had met two of his siblings. Both the safer bets compared to the rest of them. Cass and Dick were over the moon to meet him – Dick, mostly – and it had been a great outing. Tim wasn’t quite sure about how this one would turn out.
“The pleasantries are not returned.” Damian blanks, shaking the hand that intertwines with his own. He’s quick to pull back and step away. It’s insane how a high pitched voice of a ten year old can carry the weight of a grumpy eighty year old man.
Bernard grins, “Exactly as you described, huh?” He says, nudging Tim with his elbow. Shaking his head, Tim just nods with an exasperated look.
“Sorry, I tried to knock some rules into him,” Tim pauses to look at Damian, who had decided that the grass within the cracks of pavement was better company. “It doesn’t work most of the time.”
A crinkle of mirth appears in Bernard's eyes, "It's fine, seriously. I like your family."
"I like them too," Tim tilts his head in faux thought. "Some of the time."
Grinning, Bernard wraps an arm around him. Poking a finger into his side with a quip that makes Tim laugh.
"Sorry you're dragged into the babysitting thing." Tim apologises again, he feels compelled to. Damian is company, he can be good company when halfway across the room from one another in silence. He becomes increasingly petulant when he's dragged places.
"Tim," Bernard huffs, raising his brows. "It's okay, I love spending time with you either way."
A smile graces his lips, turned upright and with a light hue of pink against his cheeks. He's about to say something–
"Disgusting." Damian comments, crossing his arms, "Can we get going?"
Moment over. Thanks Damian.
"Sure, sure." Bernard laughs, his hand reaching to intertwine with Tim's fingers. His smile, laugh, his touch, his–
"Stop that." Damian curses, stepping in between the both of them. Crashing past with enough force to separate them. "Your displays of affection are abhorrent."
Raising his hands in mock apprehension, Bernard shakes his head. "Okay, fun police. Have it your way."
"Satisfactory." Damian announces, "Drake you should keel over as easily as Dowd. It would make you far more enjoyable as company."
Tim feels his eye twitch. "Damian."
It doesn't get easier after that. Their first stop is to a café for afternoon tea. It's in a finer area of Gotham, and one of their favourites.
On Tim's dime, that is.
Bernard pulls out his phone to talk about some of his newer projects as they wait on their drinks.
Tim would be far more enamoured with what Bernard was saying if it weren't for the interruptions of a blasé ten year old.
"Drake is hardly a good critic of anything, let alone food. You should consider other options." At least he was trying to get along with Bernard? Or at least being cordial. Tim had that to thank, even if it was at his own expense.
"I'm not showing it for him to critique," Bernard explains with far too much patience. Tim admires him for it honestly. "I'm showing him because I want to share what I'm doing with him."
Damian pauses, face scrunched up the way it did whenever the youngest Wayne was in thought. Far too similar to Bruce, it was uncanny in a way.
"Tt." Damian mutters, before electing to slink back away to his phone instead of engaging in conversation. Tim preferred it that way.
"How's it actually been coming along? I know you've been working on upping your arrangements." Tim brings up, tapping his finger against the table.
Bernard groans, scrolling through a couple more photos. He slides the device across, delicious looking dishes pictured.
"It's terrible." He relents, shaking his head, "Honestly, I know my dishes taste great. I'm just terrible at plating. It feels like mush when everything is put together despite how good it is."
Nodding, Tim frowns, "I'm sure it's not that bad," Bernard gives him a look. "Seriously!"
Damian's head peeks out and over, not so conspicuously trying to take a look at Bernard's phone. The latter simply smiles at him – and despite Damian's grumpy face at being caught, he turns the phone to face the kid.
Damian blinks. "It could do with some thought." He says blandly.
"Hey." Tim chastises.
"No, no." Bernard defends, "He's right, it does deserve more thought into it."
With a deflate in his expression, Bernard rests his chin in his palm. "I've been focusing too much on the taste and texture. Actually making it look good is important as well."
Damian's blank stare is directed towards Bernard, and instead of pushing the phone back, Damian straight up takes it.
He scrolls past some pictures, at Bernard's dismay and protest.
"Damian, give it back." Tim warns.
"I'm just looking." Damian replies, seemingly landing on a photo that interests him. He spins the device around. "Have you considered pairing that veggie dish you showed Drake with one of these?"
Bernard blinks as he takes the phone back, staring with slightly widened eyes. "This would make the dish look much more appealing." Tim doesn't know what they're talking about, instead he looks in between his boyfriend and his little brother.
Bernard is practically glowing. "You really have an eye for this, Damian." He compliments, and Damian bristles and hems and haws but the look on his face screams pleased.
Tim can't help but think there's an ulterior motive. Damian didn't get along with a lot of people, especially not people he met thirty minutes prior.
"I heard you're an artist?" Bernard suggests, turning the conversation to Damian's lead.
The boy stares for a moment, glancing towards Tim with something confused crossing his face.
Tim can't help himself, he has to brag.
"He's really good at it," Tim grins when Damian's face flushes with betrayal. "You know, he actually has an exhibition at his School coming up."
"Drake." Damian warns, hand itching ever so closely towards a fork.
"That's impressive," Bernard whistles. "You must be proud."
Damian looks between the both of them in quick succession. Face taunted with disbelief at the sudden turn.
"I've seen his projects whenever he lets me look. It is impressive." Tim's quick to boast, and he grabs Damian's wrist without looking when the boy attempts to stab. "Damian, why don't you show Bernard some of your work? You bought your sketchbook, yeah?"
Damian scowls. "I will end you where you are sat, Drake," He threatens, wrist still caught with that fork clutched dangerously in his hand. "Your hours are numbered."
"Save it." Tim rolls his eyes, and releases his grip on the arm. The fork is stabbed against the table.
"You don't need to show me," Bernard says. "I'm sure it's awesome."
Damian's face twists, and he crosses his arms with a cross face. "Perhaps another day." He says.
"Hey, that isn't an outright no." Tim addresses, "That means you're in the clear."
Bernard grins, "Glad to hear it."
Damian sits quietly for the rest of the time they're at the café, deciding to focus on his savoury treat.
If he makes a quip about Tim and Bernard being gross a couple times, all it elicits is laughs.
Perhaps it wasn't that bad.
Ten minutes later, he's unsure about that thought. In fact, he decides that he's ready to retract that statement in its entirety.
Tim swears they're scheming. He had excused himself to the bathroom. Barely any time to nod at, in and out. It was only a short period of his absence.
When he comes back, he swears he sees Damian whispering into Bernard's ear.
Ulterior motives. He knew it.
Tim regrets letting either of them meet the moment he sits back down at the table. Looking suspiciously between the both of them.
Finally, after some awkward silence, he bites the bullet. "Whatever he's convinced you…" He shoots a look at Bernard, pleadingly. "Do not believe it."
Bernard smiles, reaching his hand across the table to rest his palm atop of Tim's own. "Why would I ever?" He questions innocently, "Damian was just telling me about one of his projects."
Okay. Less suspicious.
Still, Tim looks in between the two of them dubiously. "I thought you said you’d show him another day?" He questions, directed at Damian. Who simply just shrugs with an air of a lie.
"I didn't want you to hear about my projects, Drake," Damian says back with zero bite in his tone, quipped to sound… almost like a tease. "Is that idea impossible to conceive in your mind?"
It was not impossible.
Tim raises a brow, but he doesn't comment. Instead shooting a look at Bernard, one that could be interpreted as, 'You're explaining this later.'
Bernard hums, and shrugs, and continues sipping on his drink. His drink that was already empty, so the straw made a terrible blowing sound instead.
Suspicious, extremely so.
Tim still hadn't finished his drink, a sickly sweet amalgamation of coffee and cream and sugar.
"Drake, I believe I enjoy Dowd's company more than I do yours."
Tim chokes, his drink burning on his tongue as he sets it down. "I'm your brother!" He protests, "And you just met Bernard!"
"It is not a difficult thing to achieve." Damian bristles, crossing his arms.
Bernard grins, "Sucks to suck."
"You're supposed to be on my side!" Tim frowns, sending Bernard his best betrayed look while he’s taking a sip of his coffee. "That's not fair."
With a shrug, the blond just waves him off. "Too bad, so sad.”
Admittedly, he was quite afraid of what the two of them could be conspiring about. Sue him for not wanting his downfall to be thrown at him when he least expects it. Tim was a smart guy, he knew it, everybody else knew it.
But, when it came to Bernard. He was absolutely stupid. He was whipped, and he usually would not be afraid to admit this fact. But…
Tim takes a glance towards Damian, who had long since finished his drink. He was sitting comfortably with his phone in his hand. Every now and again, he’d look up towards Bernard, and then he’d smile.
Tim felt a shiver go down his spine.
He wouldn’t be afraid to admit that he loved Bernard, and would do anything for him in normal circumstances. But curse him, he was slightly panicked over what Damian would choose to do with that information.
So what? Tim was afraid that his little brother would use his boyfriend to get what he wanted out of him. That didn’t make him a loser, he was just being obscenely cautious and just a little, tiny bit, afraid. He was man enough to admit that! Scared of his ten year old brother, sure, that wasn’t the least bit embarrassing.
Damian coughs to clear his throat, raising his eyes to look up at Tim. “Were you aware that a new vegan ice cream store was opened up near here?” He says, very nonchalant, not breaking eye contact.
“No, I had not heard about that.” Tim says, and he breaks eye contact first. Suddenly, his almost finished coffee looked particularly interesting. Oh, look at that, all the cream was gone. This is a particularly awesome discovery.
There’s silence beside him for a moment, before Damian taps Tim on the wrist carefully. “I would like to go there, Timothy.” There it was, the Timothy card, played once more… “Please.”
Ough. Minus ten hit points!
Tim coughs to cover up the way he startles, he shoots Damian a cautionary stare. “This is my and Bernard’s date you're crashing. You’re in no place to make demands.” He says with raised brows.
Damian frowns, “You’re supposed to be taking care of me. Richard said so.”
“Dick never talked to me,” Tim countered, resting his finger over the rim of his mug. “I’m babysitting you out of pity. Your manipulation tactics don’t work on me.”
“Manipulation?” Bernard raises his voice, playing his tone up to be something of disappointment. “Tim, he’s your brother! He would do no such thing.”
Turning his head, he looks at Bernard like he’s gone mad. Because he clearly has, he was entirely completely mental. Tim’s mouth unwittingly dropped to a degree that was unbecoming of him.
“Seriously?” Tim questions, and his voice comes out short, slightly in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you’d call me manipulative, Timothy.” Damian says, and his voice hardly shifts to make up for the downcast emotion he’s supposed to be mimicking. “That hurts me.”
Tim looks between the two of them, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you seriously believing this?” He directs his question to Bernard, looking at him incredulously. When Bernard doesn’t react in a satisfactory way, Tim slumps a little. “Are you serious?”
“He’s a sweet kid!” Bernard defends, placing a hand over his chest, “He’s been nothing but nice the whole time.”
This was going just as terribly as Tim thought it might. Sure, he might’ve thought along the way that this wasn’t going badly, and introducing Damian to Bernard wasn’t the worst decision of his life. But this was proving him wrong. So very wrong.
“Don’t believe a single word that he says.” Tim warns him, pointing a finger towards Damian. “He’s a demon. I bet he used his puppy dog eyes to manipulate you!”
“I would do no such thing, Timothy.” Damian says, crossing his arms with pouty lips. “Acting myself a fool is the least of my priorities. Especially in front of your boyfriend.”
You know that feeling you get when you just know something bad is about to happen? That dreadful feeling that spreads up your spine, telling you to run? Tim has never been so familiar, and so, so, afraid.
Bernard slaps his hand on the table, “I don’t know how you could accuse your brother of such awful things!” He exclaims, dramatically. If Tim could crawl under the table right now, he would. He definitely would.
“I’m not doing anything!” He protests.
Bernard shakes his head, looking ever ashamed of him. He furrows his brows, and he turns his head. “Damian was telling me how hurtful you were towards him, and you’ve done nothing but prove him right.”
Tim’s resolve is breaking a little, he feels it crashing against him like a bat to the head. “Didn’t I warn you about not believing a thing he says?” He questions, practically sinking into the table.
“It hurts me when you say things like that.” Damian laments, crossing his arms. He’s smiling, not at all upset.
“This is awful.” Tim groans, resting his head against his arms. “You can’t be playing this card on me.”
“As an apology, I think you should take us to the parlour. It’s only fair, Tim.” The request is given by Bernard. When he looks up, he meets Bernard’s face, and his expression is fueled by mischievous glee. “What do you say? You have to make it up to him.”
Tim sighs, for an excruciatingly long time he just sits there. Looking between two smug faces. So many hit points have been taken away, he went from two hundred to ten in the span of a couple minutes.
“This is awful.” Tim repeats, before straightening up. His hand rests against his wallet, and he shakes his head. “Fine, fine! We can go.” He relents, not at all moved by the way Damian’s face lights up and he immediately stands up to go towards the door.
Bernard grins, standing up along with him. “Knew that would work.” He shrugs, stepping towards Tim to lock his arm around Tim’s own. “You were bound to yield eventually.” He says, a smile spreading to his lips.
“Why would you do that…” Tim groans, ducking his head slightly. “Now he knows he can use you to his benefit! Against me! Literally only against me!”
“Hey, he’s a sweet kid.” Bernard defends lightly, knocking his elbow against Tim’s side. “And if I can rile you up in the process, it’s cool with me.”
Damian stands by the exit, with crossed arms and childish impatience. He raises his nose, “Dowd, you are a pleasant pawn. I will make sure to use your services in the future.” Damian announces, pushing the door backwards to hold it open for them.
“Please don’t use my boyfriend against me.” Tim pleads, placing his hands on either side of Damian’s shoulder. “I beg you.”
Damian shoots him a look, and adverts his head to not look Tim in the eye. “You shouldn’t have announced your weaknesses so loudly, Drake. You never know who's listening.” He simply says with a huff, stepping away to break away from the hold.
“Awe, I’m your weakness?” Bernard teases, his hand knocking against Tim’s, a request to intertwine. Tim complies, because he wasn’t one to deny something sweet. Even if Bernard is currently conspiring to ruin his bank account. “That’s cute.”
“And a mistake, I think I’m going to have to stop going on dates with you.”
“You’d miss me too much.”
“Maybe, can’t be too sure.” Tim smiles.
They’re stopped by Damian, who looks at them with nothing but disgust. “You both need to quit acting like this in public. You are–”
“Hey!” Tim interrupts, “I’m buying you ice cream, you have no say right now. I could just take you home right now.”
Damian pauses, frowning. He looks over to Bernard, “Cease your public displays of affection. I will make sure you never see the day.”
“No dice, I actually like spending time with my boyfriend.” Bernard replies, and his hand squeezes his hand a little tighter. “I only agreed to help you with the ice cream.”
“That’s my brother.” Damian says, petulantly. Sniffing the air, he waves his hand with a hint of accusation. He simply tuts, before turning around to fasten his step. “I find this disgusting. I don’t want to look at your…” He pauses, “Disgusting-ness.” He finishes, lamely.
Tim sighs, slumping slightly with the exasperation he definitely feels. He waves Damian off, “Come on, lead the way to the ice cream parlour before I decide not to pay for you anymore.” He threatens, waving his free hand around to push his point.
Damian huffs, and he crosses his arms, but he doesn’t comment any further on his perceived disgust. “I was thinking of trying the mango sorbet.” He says after a moment of consideration, looking back at them.
“Nice choice.” Bernard compliments, smiling at the kid. Damian simply scrunches his nose and rushes off for his independence. Walking several steps ahead of them, with a quick pace.
Damian disappears out of earshot, and Bernard tilts his head to look over at Tim. “I like your family.”
Tim looks at Bernard, a soft expression unwittingly comes across his face. “Yeah.” He says after a split moment, he leans over to press a quick peck to Bernard’s cheek.
Tim looks back over, to where he can see Damian standing off to the side of the pavement, squatting down where there appears to be a small batch of butterflies. Resting on a flower, wings twitching.
“I think I like them too.”