Chapter Text
Tim knew this was selfish, keeping Bernard around despite barely being able to be there for him.
But he couldn’t help it. He loves him. Tim loves the warm brown eyes, that goofy smile, the little snort when Bernard laughs that the blonde always tries to cover up. He loves the theories, the cuddles, the way Bernard somehow manages to make Tim feel ridiculously safe and warm.
He loves him, but he knows it isn’t fair for Bernard to put up with the missed dates, the late nights, the nights Tim doesn’t even come home, the potential danger Bernard is in just from dating him.
So why can’t he let go?
One of the few questions Tim hasn’t been able to answer. Another is why Bernard is putting up with it in the first place.
Tonight, Tim had left on patrol — made it a good thirty minutes of nothing — when Oracle said over comms that Riddler was loose again. He looked at the clock tower, he still had a while before his date with Bernard, this shouldn’t take too long, right?
“Are you sure, Red? This could take a while,” Oracle said over the comms.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine. I could use a good brain teaser anyway.”
And with that, he leapt off the roof he was perched on and began the hunt for the clues.
Oracle sent him the location first one, on the complete other side of town and on a dumpster near a recently closed down seafood buffet.
'Where the water flows and the paint is thick is the second clue, behind a mask of blue. Down, down, down. Down, down, down.’
He frowned slightly, the riddle wasn’t very hard, if anything the hardest part about it was getting the envelope open with his gloves on. This was just going to be pretty time consuming…
“Hey Oracle, how many bridges are in Gotham covered in graffiti?”
He heard the click-clack of her keyboard before she responded, “about ten.”
He looked at the time, squinting just to see the clock tower properly. Eight-fifty.
His frown deepened and let out a soft sigh, hopefully he could finish this before ten.
And hopefully he didn’t just jinx himself.
…
Tim had gotten to the first of the bridges, the cement covered in vibrant colors. He slid down the cement wall and onto the ground, in front of him was the river, flowing calmly.
He searched for the classic vibrant green and purple question marks. Nothing.
Down, down, down.
Tim side-eyed the water.
Down, down, down.
Riddler didn’t…did he? Did he actually put the clue in the barely-safe-to-drink water of Gotham City?
He looked out at the water with annoyance when he saw a little green softball (the kind used in school for dodge ball) floating in the water.
Well at least this wasn’t going to be a blind search.
Grumbling, Tim took off his cape and the parts of his gear that could get water damage and set them aside before diving into the river.
He swam out to the ball, black hair clinging to his face as he surfaced. There was a cord wrapped around it, going further down into the water, like a descent line for free-diving.
He tightly shut his eyes and went under, one hand on the rope to guide him as he went down.
He felt around the bottom with his other hand, searching blindly for what he needed. Whatever that was.
Eventually, he found something with the rope connected to it and surfaced. He squinted and looked at the Ziploc bag in hand, a green envelope with purple question marks on it.
Tim swam back to his things and silently prayed that he didn’t just risk an eye infection for nothing.
After getting back to his things, he took off his gloves and used his cape to get the excess water out of his eyes. He looked up and blinked a few times, vision slightly blurry.
He gathered his things and went back to the cave, he had to rinse his eyes out and get these stupid contacts out.
…
Tim set the contacts in the case and put his face under the running water, staying there for a minute.
“How exactly does going against Riddler lead to…this?” Jason’s voice came from the doorframe of the restroom.
Tim stood up and rubbed his eyes with his hand, “one of his clues was in the river.”
Jason’s eyes widened before he frowned, “you know you aren’t supposed to swim with contacts in, right?”
Tim shot him a glare, the whites of his eyes red from irritation, “I know that.” He ran a hand through his hair, droplets of water falling onto the floor, “what time is it?”
“Nine-twenty.”
Tim cursed under his breath. This was taking too long.
“Thanks,” he said before leaving. He had a second clue to read and however many more to get through to actually be on time for his date.
He went back down into the cave and read the clue in the envelope, his vision much better than it had been before.
…
Tim spent the next couple hours running around the city looking for the clues and eventually Riddler.
He stood on the steps of the Gotham Art Museum and watched as Riddler was hauled into the back of a police cruiser, mostly dry now. As soon as the car drove out of view, he raced back to the apartment to change.
It was just after midnight, he only hoped the restaurant would still be open at this time.
He climbed through the window of the living room and raced to get ready, throwing on a half decent outfit and making himself look somewhat presentable.
He grabbed his wallet and keys before racing out of the apartment and bolting down the stairs to the car park.
Tim was going a little over the speed limit. Of course he knew that even if he did get there, the restaurant would likely be closed. He really hoped it wouldn’t be though. If it is, then he just made his boyfriend wait around for hours in a restaurant waiting for someone that never showed.
His heart couldn’t handle hurting Bernard like this.
He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, it was awfully empty.
Dammit.
Tim drove to the front of the building and there Bernard was — sitting on a bench with a takeout bag beside him, looking down at his phone.
He looked up when Tim stopped the car, a faint smile on the blonde’s face as he saw Tim there.
Don’t look at me like that, Tim thought. He didn’t deserve that look right now.
He barely noticed Bernard getting into the passenger seat, he only looked over at him when the door closed and the bag set on the ground.
“I was starting to think I’d have to walk home,” Bernard chuckled. “I mean, meat can only last so long outside of the fridge.”
How could he even joke like this? Like he wasn’t just stood up?
Tim looked over at him, blue eyes apologetic, “Bee, I’m so sorry for missing this, I-”
“Hey,” Bernard grabbed Tim’s right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “it’s okay, really. I understand, you do important things and I don’t mind how many times it gets like this, as long as you come home safe, I’m fine.”
Tim frowned slightly at that, but just nodded anyway. The last thing he wanted right now was to argue. “Okay… did you enjoy dinner at least?”
Bernard nodded, brown eyes lighting up, “yeah. The lava molten cake was insanely good today, I actually got a good batch of fries, the buffalo chicken wasn’t too bad, and they apparently added cherry cola to the menu so that was nice.”
Tim couldn’t help but smile softly, “right, because spicy food and caffeine are such a good combo.”
“It’s so worth it though,” Bernard let go of Tim’s hand to put his seatbelt on. “I got you that burger you were talking about, I don’t know how good the fries will be since they’re cold and the bun is probably soggy, but hopefully it’s still good?”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Yeah?”
Tim nodded, “yeah.”
“Well too bad, I got you something and I will always get you something when we go out.”
“But you don’t have to,” Tim pulled out of the parking lot.
“I know, but I want to.”
Bernard was too sweet sometimes.
“I’m paying you back.”
“You can pay me in cuddles,” Bernard yawned. Tim winced a little, it was a school night and here he was, keeping Bernard out until midnight.
Tim nodded and made a left turn to the parking lot of their apartment complex.
Once parked, he helped Bernard out of the car, taking the bag while Bernard carried the to-go drinks that he hadn’t noticed were there until a minute ago.
Had he really been that deep in self-pity that he didn’t notice two whole drinks?
Bernard was watching TV on the couch while Tim ate his burger at the island. The fries weren’t good reheated, the burger buns were soggy and full of grease, and the cherry syrup in the cola settled and it tasted awful.
A sad meal for a crappy boyfriend.
He eventually joined Bernard on the couch and pulled the blonde closer, letting himself be used as a pillow.
“Patrol was good?” Bernard asked as he pulled a blanket onto himself and Tim.
Tim huffed a soft laugh, “could’ve been worse. How was school?”
Bernard groaned in annoyance.
“Sorry I asked,” Tim held back his amusement.
“I swear, if Dad didn’t pay my tuition, I’d have dropped out by now.”
Bernard continued to rant about school that day. A professor messing up the pacing in the program they use for assignments, someone pulling the fire alarm as a joke, the slideshow program he uses for notes getting on his nerves.
Whatever was on the TV was forgotten as Tim listened to Bernard. He nodded, gave a comment when necessary.
If he couldn’t be on time for a date, at least he could listen to his boyfriend.