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The first time Damian truly feels the urge to draw Timothy Drake, he is eighteen, and it is a rare morning where Drake has stayed the night in the manor instead of returning to his penthouse or a safe house. Damian did not expect anyone else to be awake when he left his room just at the start of sunrise, so when he sees Drake, his steps stutter to a stop. His mind slowly takes in the beauty of the scene before him.
Timothy is curled up in the bay window. The early morning sun’s oranges, pinks, and reds highlighting him and softening his form. It feels out of a movie, and Damian’s hand itches to grab his sketchbook and pencils. However, the moment is broken when Drake must have heard him and turns towards the other man. His expression morphes into concern at the stalled form of Damian.
”Everything good there, baby bat?” Tim’s voice pulls Damian out of whatever trance he has been in.
“Tt.” The younger man bristles at the nickname for some reason he does not enjoy it when it comes from the closest Robin to him. It is as if he is being infantilized when he is not only bigger than the other man, now, but also close to the age of adulthood. “Of course. Just shocked to see you before noon on a weekend.”
Drake chuckles and shrugs with a wide grin. “Hey, sometimes the sunset just calls for you, and who am I to deny a siren call?” AKA he cannot sleep likely due to nightmares. Why he refuses to come to anyone in the family despite all of them experiencing their own always bothers Damian. It is as if Drake could not rely on them, and it frustrates him. “What about you?”
”I promised Titus we would go on a run by the lake during sunrise.” Damian answers curtly and then turns away to do just that, not giving him a chance to respond or increase the frustration inside the young bird. He hopes the exercise would remove whatever other emotions Drake has just stirred inside of him.
Much to his chagrin, they do not leave him so easily.
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The next most memorable memory of Damian’s need to draw his once adoptive brother is only a month or so later. They are working a case together, and as it always seems to go when there is a plan in place, something goes wrong. He finds himself tied up with a dislocated shoulder that is making his escape slower than he would have liked. However, that is not going to stop his success. He is the perfect combination of the Waynes and al Ghuls.
Robin is about halfway through his bounds when he hears a shock of gunfire, shouting coming from outside the room he has been contained to, and the cackle of his comm coming alive as the scrambler is disabled. His rescue must have arrived, and from what he can make out of the shouts and commentary from Red Robin in his ear, they are struggling to figure out where that rescue is coming from. Drake has to be using decoys and the like then. That should give Damian enough time to finish his escape.
“Morons.” Drake chuckles as an explosion sounds from the other side of a compound. “Can’t see a simple trip wire.” That causes a smirk from Damian as he frees one hand, but it is quickly wiped away when the other man adds, “How did Robin manage to get captured by these numbskulls?”
“By knockout gas and being distracted by your incessant talking.” He snipes and moves himself to the wall to push his shoulder back into place.
“Took you long enough. I thought I was going to have to drag an unconscious baby bat out of here.”
“Lucky for you, there are no baby bats here.” He murmurs as he starts on the lock to get out of the room.
The only response that greets him is a hum before another round of shots go off. Damian quickly unlocks the door and silently opens it. A quick survey of the hall shows the guards outside are already unconscious. “Couldn’t get me from the room before moving on?” He questions as he starts to look for his missing gear.
”Nope,” Red pops the p, “had to move quickly to make sure your escape route was clear before the double back.”
”The way you came is no longer accessible?” He finds his belt and katana in another room with knocked out guards. Among his stuff is one of Drake’s signature smiley face stickers. How mature of the twenty-two-year-old.
”Nah, it got caught on fire and caused a collapse.”
This comes as a surprise to Robin. Drake is known for his calculated explosions with no collateral damage. It does explain the smoke that has started to pour into the area. The rescue must have been more rushed than originally considered. With that new information, Damian throws his equipment on faster, including a breathing apparatus, and follows the stickers that he has now figured out are Red’s way to guide him out.
They lapse back into silence, but it is not long until Damian makes it to the upper floor and out the marked window. His grapple pulls him to the rooftop across from the warehouse. “I’m out, Red.”
While he waits for the return acknowledgement, he looks at the building. Half of it is smoking from hidden flames and goons are jumping out windows to escape it. Damian frowns because he can already hear the lecture of his father on the mess that is in front of him. Just as he sighs out, “Unnecessary,” the building explodes.
Robin’s eyes widen, and he grapples off the roof. “Red?!” He barks out as he starts to search the perimeter for his counterpart. Something like panic flickering to life inside of him when no answer came right away. “Red Robin. Answer me.”
There is only static as he rounds to the other side of the building. He is about to switch his comm line to O’s when he hears a sound behind him. The sight that greets him is scorched into his memories and deserves to be immortalized on paper. It takes Damian a bit to finally succumb to this desire. When he finishes the full painting, he hides it on the back of the mirror hanging up in his room. One day he will hang it up properly.
Red Robin is walking away from the flames with his nearly maniacal smirk. His suit is torn across his chest. Blood is dripping from a gash across it and his lips. He is resting his bo staff on his shoulder while he tosses a grenade in his other hand. It is the moment Robin knows how far Timothy Jackson Drake will go for him, and it both scares him and fills him with unnatural warmth.
The ride back to the cave for medical attention is filled with tension. Timothy thinks Robin is upset about being rescued, while Dami is just trying to suppress unsettling, new emotions. He barely hears the lecture upon their arrival back.
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When the third time comes, Damian feels he has a better handle on not acknowledging the emotions now. After all, he is a Wayne that can control every aspect of their reactions, including their heartbeats, and it has almost been a year since they have been appearing around Drake. However, then comes the holiday's charity gala, and Timothy Drake walks in wearing a beautiful black corseted suit with emerald accents and heels. His hair is styled into a messy half up, half down that looks effortless. Minimal makeup to make his ice blue eyes pop. He is beyond beautiful and holds the younger man’s attention for the entire night.
A shudder runs down Damian’s back when he witnesses Janet Drake make an appearance in his adoptive brother. They are in a group of their ‘peers’ when one makes an offhanded comment about how it is a good thing Damian is not following in Bruce’s steps because there is no way he can compare to Drake. Before Wayne can respond, Timothy smiles coldly, pulls up to his full height, and looks down his nose at the insulter.
“It is a pity for you he isn’t actually. He is much more likely to listen to your sob story in a few years when your father’s company is bankrupt and needs a bailout. Whereas I’m going to be the reason you are in that position.” His voice is sugary sweet, and he clinks his champagne flute to the man before turning around and pulling Damian from the conversation and onto the ballroom floor to lead them in waltz. Damian’s heart has no choice but to skip a few beats.
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By the fourth time, Damian knows that he is in love with Timothy Drake, but he still has no idea what to do with the information. Between his college work, their night activities, and Timothy’s impossible work schedule, they are never alone, so he cannot tell the older man. He also has no idea how Drake would react, and he is not someone that enjoys going into any situation without knowing the outcome. It could go either way.
This is what Damian finds himself pondering as he stares at the batcomputer after his parole, freshly showered. Maybe he needs to make a pros and cons list. That seems to help others in shows and whatnot.
It is not the first time that Damian believes he has fallen in love, but it is the first time the other person is considerably controversial. Timothy is his emancipated adoptive brother. Sure, they did not grow up together, but people are sure to look at them strangely. He does not want his feelings to harm Drake’s reputation.
There is also a high chance that Timothy will reject Damian. Their relationship did not start off on the best of feet, and they nearly killed each other. Now their relationship is more than companionable, and it seems that Timothy truly enjoys spending time with Damian. That is not something he wishes to lose should his affections not be returned.
As he continues to go through his barebones list in his head, movement catches his attention. Timothy is coming out of the locker rooms. Shirtless and drying his hair as he shots Damian his goofy, exhausted smile that has started to turn Wayne’s insides into putty. His cheeks are still flushed red from the heat of his own shower. The steam gives him a perfect backdrop. Damian’s fingers twitch towards the sketchpad near him, but he forces them to clasp in front of him instead.
”Night, pretty bat. Don’t stay up too late. Your eight a.m. class isn’t going to wait for you.” Drake calls as he heads for the hidden staircase. The newest nickname causes a flush of Wayne’s own cheeks.
Damian’s eyes lock on a drop of water following the curves of Timothy’s back before it vanishes into the hem of his sweatpants. “Actually get some sleep tonight, Drake.” He remembers to call out right as Timothy’s back disappears.
Yeah, something definitely needs to change between them. If Damian does not do anything, he fears this attraction will turn into more of an obsession.
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The fifth time changes everything. It is nearing the end of a regular patrol night, and they were assigned to the same one. Nothing major for them. Quiet, so they decide to grab some chili dogs from their favorite vendor and eat them on top of the gargoyles at the Gotham Cathedral. Damian has been living with these desires for nearly two years.
It is a beautiful night in Gotham. The skies are clear, and one can actually see the full moon, which is currently framing Timothy beautifully. Damian notes as he pauses in his eating to admire the rare sight. To cover his staring when Drake looks over to him, he coughs and gestures to the corner of his mouth, “You have some chili, right there.”
“Thanks,” Drakes hums with narrowed eyes as he grabs a napkin to wipe away the offending food. Silence falls over them again as Damian refuses to look at Timothy again, and Timothy stares at Damian. Either five minutes or five seconds later, Red Robin breaks the silence. “When are you going to ask me?”
Damian’s body tenses, and he forces himself to relax before turning to blink at the other man with furrowed brows. “Ask you what, Red?”
Despite the white out lens of their masks, Robin can tell Red rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Don’t play dumb with me. Did you really think I would not have figured it out?”
”…I had hoped this time since it involved you that it would go unnoticed for a bit longer.”
”Nothing that involves you goes unnoticed,” Red murmurs as he finishes his dog. “Now ask me.”
Damian looks down at his hands. He closes and opens them as he gathers his courage. The fact Drake is asking him to do this means he has a chance, right? It is time to just rip the bandage off. He snaps his gaze to Timothy. “Timothy, will you have dinner with me this Friday in a romantic capacity?”
The softest smile Damian has ever seen graces Drake’s lips. The moon causes his now visible eyes to glow, and the desire to paint this scene is greater than any other. “Yes. Pick me up at six. After waiting so long, I expect to be wined and dined, Damian Wayne.”
Before the younger man can respond, Timothy is grappling away, but in his wake, Damian’s blush and smile are likely the biggest they’ve ever been. “Do not worry, Timothy Drake. I am going to wine and dine you so well, you will no longer want to spend time with anyone but me.”
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Three years later.
The afternoon light is filling the hotel room with a soft glow. Damian sits on a chair with his sketchpad propped in his lap. His pencil moves across it smoothly as he continues another outline of the scene in front of him. He has to say that now that he is not denying himself to draw Timothy Drake a weight has been lifted off him.
He smiles as he takes in the image again. Timothy has starfished on his stomach across the bed. His long hair spread around the pillow like a halo. The sheets bunch around his hips, allowing Damian to see the marks he left on Timothy’s creamy, scarred skin. A flash of green catches Damian’s eye as the sleeping man readjusts. It is a new addition to the vigilante’s hand, and Wayne thinks it fits his husband perfectly. A band of emeralds encased in black tungsten. The words, ‘Forever, Even When Sleep Deprived,’ engraved inside it. Damian’s a band of sapphire in the tungsten with the words, ‘Forever, Even When Emotionally Stunted’ engraved. If that did not sum up the worst fights of their relationship, Damian is not sure what would.
As he chuckles to himself, movement is heard from the bed. A groan and a rustle of sheets as Tim stretches. “Pretty bat. Come back to bed.” He looks over his shoulder and his expression is devilish. “I have not had my fill of you yet.”
Damian arches a brow and smiles fondly as he puts his supplies away. “You never seem to reach your fill, Drake-Wayne.”
Timothy’s nose wrinkles. “That is going to take some getting used to again.”
”Do not worry,” Dami hums as moves to sit on the bed. He leans over to kiss a path across Tim’s shoulder. “It will not be used often by me, omri.”
Tim catches Damian’s jaw and brings him in for a kiss. “I love you, rouhi.”
He leans his forehead against the man, and his breath catches at the love he sees reflected in Tim’s eyes. “And I you till I cannot any longer.”