Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bruce has a very strict rule against listening to music while training. He says it distracts from the purpose of training, the need to perfect and control rather than to mindlessly beef up. He also thinks that it's inappropriate because in a real life scenario you have to be able to discern noises, react faster because you can hear a perp's footsteps or the sound of a gun cocking, and listening to music means you get used to the noise during a fight rather than silence. 

Which is why Tim has his workout playlist blasting through his headphones as he runs on a treadmill in Titans Tower, stupid songs like ' 212 ' and ' XXX ' vibrating through his skull to muffle the sounds of Bart doing laps or Kon practising his tactile telekinesis. Cassie is around the room somewhere, most likely doing weights but Tim can't hear her so he doesn't care. Unlike what Bruce says, Tim feels more focused when he listens to music. Even if it is white girl trash like this. 

He's been running on the treadmill for over an hour by this point but it's always his favourite part, whether it be during training or through the rooftops. They have to be able to have good stamina and be able to run far to do what they do, but even before becoming Robin, Tim ran. Maybe it's because he was chasing Batman and Robin, but still! The point still stands that Tim likes to run on a level that could match Bart. It's part of his workout, rather than a warm up/warm down. No one usually bothers him but just as the song switches over to some Pitbull, Tim notices Bart lingering by the edge of the treadmill. 

"Everything okay?" Tim asks and hops onto the sides, slowing down the treadmill gradually. He's a little out of breath, sweat shining across his skin and shirt hanging down by his legs from where it's tucked into his pants. The pink shorts have to be tied in the front to support the shirt and Tim fixes them higher up on his hips while he waits for Bart to answer, pulling them up from where they slipped down. Bart is faintly pink, freckles standing out against his skin, and he tightens the ponytail he'd shoved his hair into as a nervous tick. 

Bart hasn't been this nervous in a while and something about it strikes Tim as odd. It's not that he's never displayed anxiety since Young Justice really got close, like really close, but he's usually more up front about it and why. He's talkative which plays into the team's favour, even if you have to coax some problems out of him. A slip of worry is going through Tim the longer Bart stays quiet, and he walks over to where he is to put a hand on his shoulder, sliding it up to his neck to bring him closer. 

"Yeah, um, I just had a favour to ask. It's nothing big really but it's been kinda irritating me and you said that if I need anything, to come ask you but upon reflection this is kinda silly," Bart starts and Tim frowns, cocking his head at him. It must really be bothering Bart since he doesn't make fun of him at all, something that the whole team does when Tim does anything bird related. He's used to the weird bird calls and mocking when he does it, not silence. 

"Whatever it is, I'll do it if I can, no matter how silly it is," Tim tries to reassure and thankfully Bart takes a deep breath and nods, his unease melting away a bit. For a second there, Tim thought he was going to vibrate through the floor out of anxiety and that hasn't happened in a while. 

"Well, I just need to borrow some... money," Bart finishes lamely, shoulders curling upwards in shame. Frowning, Tim wonders what the hell he's got to be embarrassed about. He'd — well, no, that's mean. He hadn't wondered when his friends would come asking him for money, but Bruce asked once (a very long time ago, but it stuck) how any of his friends were able to support themselves since technically two out of three didn't exist. Bart is from the future and there's no way to explain how he happened to be here without the wrong people asking too many questions about the Allen family and Kon is a clone, aged up to sixteen. He's been growing fine since then, but still. He's a clone. 

So yeah, Tim wondered if any of them would ask him for a loan or a favour or whatever. Especially since he told them his secret identity and it was revealed he was a Wayne, previously a Drake. Well, he's still technically a Drake but the point still stands. He never thought they'd be embarrassed about it though. It's a reasonable thing to ask since he's got money and he's not doing anything with it. If they need it, then they need it. 

"Of course Bart, whatever you need." 

"Seriously?" Bart asks incredibly, looking at Tim like he grew another head. Wiping away some sweat from his neck, Tim nods and slings his yellow shirt over his neck to stop his hair from dripping down onto his skin. Workout effectively over, he is starting to smell, like seriously smell, and he needs to have a shower which means this conversation has to be over pretty quickly. "You're not even going to ask what it's for?" 

"No," Tim says and somehow that's even more surprising, "why would I ask? I trust you." 

"It's your money, man, and you're just going to let me use it?" He whispers almost too quickly for Tim to understand. He's beginning to wish they'd had this conversation privately since Bart is actually starting to vibrate, his fingers tapping sensely on his thigh. Neither Kon nor Cassie have noticed though, so Tim uses his hand that's on his neck to pull him towards the door, sliding into the space alongside him. 

The way the Tower is laid out is kind of confusing if you're not a superhero, specifically if you're not a Titan. The Titans work differently than the Justice League, for some members of various teams the tower acts as their home, which means that it has to be laid out in a way that's easy to use for the long term. Which is why the kitchen is only one floor above the training room, despite how ineffective it might be. Even if it means that people in the kitchen might have to avoid flying weights crashing through the ceiling because of some meta team member, it makes certain peoples (Flashes) lifes easier. 

Bart is well familiar with the kitchen which is why Tim brings him up there. It's not the room he's most comfortable in, there's no doubt that his bedroom, but he doesn't want to have this type of conversation in a place where either of them are more comfortable. Easier to be on steady ground, even ground. Bruce would be proud of him for this level of team management, even if he wasn't the leader anymore. 

"Bart you never have to be embarrassed to ask me for money. If I have it, and you need it, then that's that. Doesn't matter if it's for something like a Spotify account or, like, bailing you out from jail." Bart listens with a rapt attention, sitting down on the kitchen stool next to Tim. "If it was you or Cassie or Kon, it doesn't matter. All you have to do is ask." 

Bart takes a few seconds to absorb that, nodding along almost absentmindedly. He's not looking at Tim and for a hot minute, Tim wonders if maybe he's being too casual about this. He's never really been money independant himself, not until he was running WE and had the check going straight from work to his bank account, but relying on someone for money can be a weird feeling.

It was different since until he was seventeen, it was his parents or Bruce lodging money into his account, but this is Tim giving his friends money. It's not handing Jason a hundred dollars to leave him alone, it's not paying for Dick's latte, or buying a Christmas present for Damian. Maybe Bart will feel like he'll owe Tim for this? Hopefully not. Really, all the money is doing is sitting in his account. It'll be grateful to be used, especially by someone who wants it. Tim should... not put feelings of neglect on money. 

"Anything?" Bart asks, a curious tilt to his voice. 

"Yeah." 

"Food?" 

"Sure." 

"Clothes?" 

"Well, you need them everyday, don't you?" 

"So, if I never wanted to do laundry again and just buy new clothes every month, you'd let me use your money for that?" 

"Well, no, that's not very environmentally friendly but I can get you a cleaner or someone to do it for you." 

"You'd... pay for someone to do my laundry just because I don't want to?" 

Tim feels like he lost this conversation a few minutes ago. Bart, however, is gleeful in his seat. He's glad that there's no anxiety in the room anymore since it was nearly suffocating before, but a part of Tim is feeling like he made some sort of cosmic mistake somewhere along the way. Looking back, he hasn't said anything terribly wrong, but the excitement on Bart's face reads like he's found a pot of gold Tim's been neglecting. 

"Sure," he shrugs. There'd be someone out there to do it, and even if they have to sign an NDA pertaining to secret identities, Tim's always been a bit heavy handed with his salaries which sways anyone. Ask literally anyone at WE and they'll say, no matter what level they're on, that they got at least two raises when Tim was CEO. Even now that he's taken a more background role, letting Bruce become CEO publically and he handles stuff as CFO, he's still a bit heavy handed with it. It's easy enough to be, when he sees the effects of poverty every night. 

Bart gapes at him, looking gobsmacked, before he shoots up and does a few laps around the kitchen. Tim watches him build up electricity, white turning red as he goes faster and faster, and then watches it chase Bart out of the room entirely. He waits for a few minutes, rubbing his chest with his shirt to get rid of the lingering sweat and wonders if the conversation is over and if he can go take a shower without Bart popping in to continue it, no care towards Tim's nakedness. 

When he returns however it's not alone. Kon blinks, the motion of going for presumably a weight paused halfway, and his hand drops down to his side. Tim waves at him, to which the boy returns despite his confusion. Cassie appears next to him, shirt halfway over her head. She must have been getting changed. 

"Pants!" Cassie barks at Bart next to her and Tim frowns because Bart is wearing pants and-- oh. Cassie isn't wearing pants. 

"Nice underwear," he says to her with an amused smile. Cassie mocks him and sits down on a bench, crossing her legs to hide her blue panties from them. Kon snickers next to her, leaning an arm on her shoulder, and crossing a leg across the other one. Bart is standing in front of them, gesturing wildly to Tim and then himself, then the two of them, mouth running a mile a minute. Maybe a second since Tim can no longer understand what he's saying. Kon and Cassie however do and turn to him with wide eyes at the same time, Kon's mouth falling open in a silent gasp. 

Tim looks between the three of them — at Bart's excited face, Cassie's considering frown and Kon's shocked wide eyes. He's definitely missing something. He has to be. A bubble of frustration rises in his chest at being left out but judging by how Cassie's face has started to smoothen out into something more neutral, a face they elected to call 'Mission McSerious Face' — something she does as team leader on a mission, hence the name — he suspects that she's about to interrogate him on whatever the conversation topic is. 

"Tim," Cassie begins seriously and he feels his spine straighten up on instinct, an echo of when Cassie used to boss him around like there was no tomorrow. "Are you going to give Bart money?" 

"Yes," he says slowly, looking at the speedster to see if he's comfortable with this being a casual conversation topic. 

"And you don't care what he uses it for? Or ask for it back?" 

"No, why would I?" His skin is starting to feel tacky, the salt from his sweat drying it out, and he's itching to get into the shower. Tim huffs and stands up, taking his shirt off the counter. "I'll tell you what I told Bart five seconds ago. It's fine to ask me for money, it's fine not to pay it back — I don't want it back, and you can do it whenever. For whatever. I have it but I'm not using it, so why not? Plus I already get groceries and stuff delivered here for us, what's another bit?"

Tim takes stock of the faces all around him and sighs, wishing he knew what was wrong with this conversation. He’s never been accused of knowing everything, at least not seriously. He’s not sure what they’re thinking, not sure he wants to know. If Bart thinks it's weird, then so will they. Tim shakes his head and looks away from them, towards the door and the escape lingerie behind it. “Listen, it’s your call. Use it, don’t. Don’t even think about it if you don’t want to, lord knows I don’t. But I’m sweaty which means I smell and no one wants to be around that. I’m gonna go shower.” 

Tim leaves and no one stops him, though he does hear the rough timber of Kon’s voice asking if this was always an option. Cassie chimes in with something about poverty and he winces, sure that he’s interpreting that the wrong way. They can come to their own decisions, in their own time. All he can do is wait. 

In the next two weeks, a second and a third and then a fourth card gets added to his bank account. While they don’t have complete control over his bank, and anything more than five grand needs an authorization code sent to his phone or email, money is put in and used and then replaced. 

Telling the team something he’d unintentionally be keeping a secret was like a breath of fresh air. He doesn’t need to guess with the groceries anymore. That’s a literal relief, not having to wonder if Bart still likes blackberries and yoghurt for his breakfast or if he’s completely changed his preference for the fourth time this week. Buying Kon some appropriate clothes for outside weather is also a relief. Cassie, he never had to worry about since out of all of them, she had the most normal childhood. At least, in comparison. 

“Hey, I’m ordering dinner!” Tim calls into the apartment and a flurry of noise comes at him. The air bends around Kon who can never have his feet on the ground for longer than five seconds, a rush of electricity following a spurt of rain as Bart dries off from his shower and then the reassurance that Cassie is the best of them all as she calmly walks towards him from the kitchen. The Nest is nice and all but the best part is the complete lack of space, no emptiness or stale air for his friends to hide away in. Also, it takes an hour to clean. Only. One. Hour. 

They all sign their orders to him, Cassie writing a few drinks down for Tim to get. Ordering at the Nest is easier as well since all of his vigilante stuff is either in his bedroom, which is concealed by the closed door at all times, upstairs, which is out of sight to anyone in the doorway, or scattered around the ground which has been cleaned by Kon because he refuses to be anywhere with a speck of dirt. Tim nearly had to bite his throat out when he tried to throw away the microwave he’d taken apart weeks ago and never put back together. He’s getting around to it! 

“And can I get four bottles of coke, three of sprite, five water bottles — yeah, the two litre ones, and two pink lemonades.” Tim watches as Bart pumps his fists, turning towards him briefly and playing with the wire of his landline, sighing when he holds up seven fingers. “Sorry, can you make that seven pink lemonades?... Heh, yeah, I guess you could say I am holding a party. Take however long you need, and if you need to do a few trips, that’s fine too. I’ll tip well.” 

Bart claps his hands together at the readjustment of drinks, zipping around Tim before landing in front of him and holding his face in his hands when Tim’s face is free, the phone clicking back into place on the wall near silently. Kon and Cassie have started an argument about what to watch tonight, Cassie voting for an interesting thing like a mockumentary while Kon is vehemently voting for the entire Twilight Saga . Tim ignores them, watching the gold specks in Bart’s eyes come to life as he stills, the Speed Force moving within him constantly. He never noticed until Bart came back how bright his body was. 

His hair is never just copper or auburn, it’s rose-gold in the darkest way. Tim’s never been able to track what colour his eyes are as they constantly are changing on his own, a deep seafoam blue changing to a lovely and leafy green but the shining ambition and intelligence in them stays the same, lighting up every beautiful colour in them. And don’t even get him started on his freckles, little spots of sunlight bleeding through his skin like his heart is the sun itself, spreading warmth and light through his veins. Something about those alluring speckles of colour along his skin, in every inch you can see and you can’t, just drives Tim to be closer in the worst way. He wants to burrow into the warmth of Bart’s skin and never leave, spread himself thin over him. Bart's hands are like irons on either side of his face, warming his cheeks and leaving burn marks. 

“Thank you so much! I don’t know why but I’ve really been going on a kick for it, and they never have enough when I go to the store.” 

“Well, I have a Costco subscription if you want to buy it on that,” Tim offers and Bart lights up, spinning them around for a bit. Just as nausea seeps into Tim’s stomach, they stop and he feels a light pressure on his cheek, a quick press of soft lips on his cheekbone and then it’s gone. When Tim sees Bart he’s pretty and pink, skin flushed for some reason, and his hands are soft against Tim’s shoulders. His heart is thumping widely for some reason, and the noises of the argument have long since faded into the recess of his mind. 

“What was that for?” 

“No one’s… no ones ever taken care of me like this before,” he confesses and Tim’s heart nearly shatters. He places a hand on his neck, touches his forehead against Bart’s and then leans further down to press himself along Bart like a barnacle, the speedsters face pressed into the hollow of his neck. They’re the closest in height now, Kon and Cassie miles above them. Tim’s nearly sure that this position would be more comfortable for the other two if they were on their knees rather than standing like they are. 

Tim feels those stupid walls in his head fall and crumble like they always do around his friends, his precious and loveable and so easily destroyed friends. He’s lost them so many times, either to distrust or death or just circumstance, and his brain knows it. It’s time for him to admit everything. Okay, well not everything. Some things he hasn’t even admitted to himself, and it’ll stay that way for a while yet. 

“You know that… that I’d do anything for you, Bart.” The reassurance is soft and quiet in the kitchen. He’s got so much more to say. Always has a million things to say these days, frustration and kindness jumbled up into an ugly knot in his back. Bart soothes his worries, a constant buzz of empathy and striking cleverness. He’s one of the only people who can match Tim and he knows it, and he loves it. “I’ll always take care of you.” 

Pulling apart is easier than it was two years ago, freshly eighteen and still dreaming of Bart slipping through his fingers, nightmares catching in his throat. Everything is easier now that he can pile up on the couch with Bart’s head pillowed on his lap, Kon’s sharp knees digging into his back as he pulls Tim impossibly closer and Cassie’s arm stretched around his shoulders, fingers dancing up and down his arm. They were clingy before but for some reason, during the past month, the light touches have turned to full on presses of heat, lingering eyes and someone to hold when he naps on the couch. 

Kon goes to get the food, Tim’s wallet in hand, and comes back to them all still unhelpful sitting on the couch instead of gathering plates. He’s lucky that it was something simply like Chinese food and not pizza or Indian, stuff that's either impossible to carry so much of on his own or that needs a plate. The restaurant Tim ordered from did include about twenty pairs of chopsticks, believing his lie of throwing a party easily, which will be hard to explain to Jason why he has so many wooden chopsticks, but at the rate they’re eating, it won’t matter. Tim himself has gone through two pairs already. 

“Hey, babe?” 

That’s also a new thing — all the new nicknames he’s been given. At first he thought they’d shortened baby bird down to just baby, something Dick did once before revulsion tore through both of them at the way it sounded, but then he realised that it was something only the family called him and never in public. Unless Kon had taken to eavesdropping on his conversations (again) then there was no way for them to know about it, and therefore no way for them to shorten it. And then Cassie had called him ‘sweetheart’ and he suspected something was up, although he never figured out what. 

So, because of weeks of learning to respond to the new names (and only being referred to as stuff like Replacement or Pretender or Baby Bird, hell even Robin during his teenage years, very important years for personal development, had changed the way he responded to his name. Once he answered to The Nerd King without hesitation), Tim hums without looking away from his phone where he’s sending a strongly worded text to Bruce about snooping on his place and looking through his files. Also, watching him all the time whether he’s at work or on patrol. He’s yet to figure out if the watching extends to his home but he hopes this is preemptive to that. 

“Can I get a new jacket?” Kon asks, scrolling on a website on his phone and shoving an egg roll into his mouth at the same time. Tim winces at the crumbs that fall onto his couch, but otherwise hums an affirmative. Kon has yet to realise that he doesn’t have to ask every time he uses the card, going as far as to text him in the middle of the day (naptime or work time, depending on the day and how patrol went) if he can buy a subscription to Disney Plus. 

“Oh! Thanks for the reminder Kon, I ordered a pair of shoes yesterday but when I put the card in, it autofilled your address so will you text me when they arrive?” Cassie mumbles around a piece of duck in orange sauce and Tim hums again, shoving some noodles into his mouth. They’ve gotten as far into the movie as when Bella confronts Edward in the woods and this is always his favourite part of the movie. It’s funny but as a man who’s read the books, it’s amazing. Even if Twilight is cringy to watch, it’s a great book adaptation and that's all that matters to him. 

“What type?” Bart asks, always a fan of conversation during movies. Tim’s working on a present for him, a compilation of his favourite movies and tv shows at 100x speed, which to him will really just be a bright flash of light but to any speedster it should be heaven. It’s not really a birthday present, since that's passed, but he likes to… spoil, for lack of a better word, his friends. 

“Louboutins” 

Tim raises an eyebrow at the confession, settling further into the couch. Her hand slips down from his shoulder to his waste, nails dragging across his skin lightly and only catching on one of his scars. It’s an old one, probably one of the first few he received as Robin, and instead of being painful like it usually is, his spine tingles and arches. Cassie grins, moving in closer, and pressing her mouth to his shoulder for a second. Bella is with Alice and Jasper now, but Tim can’t hear it since a flush of heat is washing over him for some reason. He’s not sure why, himself and Cassie have been this close before, but she’s doing it differently now. It’s not like before. Maybe it’s because of the heat of Kon behind him, the rise and fall of his chest against his back combined with Bart’s weight on his lap. 

“I felt like something fancy,” she admits and Tim steels his spine, turning towards her face. It’s a bit closer than he thought it would be and it takes all his training not to lean backwards in shock, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she blinks. Tim used to wonder what Kon saw in Cassie but as the years progressed, Tim learned more about her and what made her so wonderful. It’s easy to see now, inches from her face and coy amusement dancing in her eyes. 

“What type did you get? I’m partial to a dainty pump in black,” he whispers and Kon’s chest stills for a second — is he holding his breath? — before it starts up again, rapidfire. Cassie grins, though it’s more of a smirk than anything, giving his hip a squeeze. 

“You wear heels Tim?” 

“Only sometimes. When I need to.” Her face does something weird but then she bites her lip and tucks her face into his neck, looking away. Tim takes a deep breath, hoping to control the wide pumping of his heart, and turns back towards the movie. Twilight passes without any further issues, with Bart sitting up after he’d finished his dinner and settling comfortably in Tim’s lap, purposefully grabbing his arms and placing them around his waist to keep him in place. The touches are weird, but he likes them. 

The galas are probably the worst part of being famous. It sort of feels like a grain of salt compared to the rest of his life, but they are a serious pain. The worst part is putting on layers upon layers of make-up to cover up scars and bruises, sometimes even eyebags when a case goes on for too long (most of the time those culprits are Dick or Tim, but that's beyond the point). Getting into a suit is fine except when it's outside and it's summer because Gotham has a dead heat. 

And despite how Bruce or literally anyone will say, the company isn't the worst. Maybe it's because he wasn't like any of them, he grew up lavishing in these parties and talking to these people. Not even Bruce had gone in his childhood, travelling the world to perfect his skills. He'd been introduced to this environment when he was seven. It's only a matter of approaching the right people, and bringing the best date. On the topic of dates -- 

"Hey, Cassie?" Tim calls and she responds, walking over to him on the couch and leaning over the back to be face to face with him. "You busy tonight?" 

"Why? Are you asking me out, Tim?" Her voice is like syrup next to his ear, smooth and sweet. He takes a second to realise she could, possibly, be flirting with him but surely that's impossible. After she broke up with Kon, they'd made a sort of unanimous and silent agreement not to date within the friend group, the awkwardness that suffocated them haunting Tim for weeks. And since they're friends, there's no way she's flirting. Least of all with him. 

Based on that logical deduction, Tim allows a small smile to cross his face, turning ever so slightly so that he can look her in the eyes. They're a dangerous blue colour, like the ocean slapping across a cliff with the foam lighting up around her irises. Cassie always had amazing eyelashes and pores, but up close Tim swears she could've been carved from marble and given life. 

"Maybe I am, Wonder Girl," he murmurs and leans a bit closer, letting it seem like he's about to press a kiss to her lips before changing direction and hovering by her ear. "That a problem?" 

"Not at all, Boy Wonder," she breathes, only faltering for a second. Tam told him once that he was a terrible flirt, but only when he was trying. Hopefully that wasn't too bad. And Tim likes it when she plays around with their names, calls him Wonder Boy to make fun of him and then in turn responds to stuff like Girl Wonder. A part of him wonders if Dick used to tease Donna like that. Another part is hoping that it's just for himself and Cassie, a private thing just for them. 

"So are you free?" 

"I can be. Where would we go?" 

"My house for a charity gala." Cassie leans away and groans, dramatically flopping over the couch to land beside him. Tim moves his tablet off to the side, hands going straight for her hair. She'd given it the chop a while ago but it's grown back a fair amount since, reaching just by her shoulders. Somehow every hair length looks great on her. Honestly, everything looks great on Cassie. "It'll just be for two hours, then we can go get greasy food. Or I can book us a proper reservation in a place like Stone Water or Laberet's." 

Cassie makes a face. Tim lets her think it over, deciding that they'll only stay for as long as they have to and then they'll ditch. Bruce might be a bit pissy tomorrow since if he does leave early, that's basically leaving him to the wolves but that's what he gets for forcing Tim to go despite the fact he's had ' In SanFran ' slotted into the calendar for weeks. 

If she doesn't want to go, he can always ask Kon or Bart. Or even go alone, he guesses. But if he were to bring a guy, that would be a huge risk for not only their secret identities since it'll bring a load of attention on them, it'll also risk their safety. People in Gotham are very firm in their beliefs, no matter what level they're on. It's an open bar as well, and people get rowdy when they get drunk. Going alone would be lonely and he'd have to stay for the whole thing, but he could manage... 

"I'll need a dress. And shoes. And jewellery," Cassie lists off on her fingers, bringing his attention back to her. Tim looks down at her and takes in her sweatpants and tank top that's practically glued to her, showing off a few of her scars and her muscles. Tim hopes that if they do get a dress that she gets one with no sleeves or an open back. That would suit her very well. Maybe a deep neckline. 

"Alright, do you want to throw on some shoes and we can go shopping?" Tim runs through his list of shops in San Francisco, trying to find the best one possible for the attire she'll have to wear. Cassie pinches his leg to draw him back to her, and he startles. Just as she starts babbling some excuse that she was joking and that it's really not important for her to get all those, he shakes his head. "If we're going to do this, we might as well do it properly. And you might have to come with me again, so it's better to be prepared. Honestly, I'm surprised that we haven't done this sooner." 

They could go to ' Nicoles' , they've got nice evening dresses. He thinks his mother got one there before, where they stayed in and around America when he was very young. And there should be a ' Dress ' around the city as well, which is very nice. He got a dress there and they had a lovely collection of backless ones in the line-up for him. Although, it might be better to go to New York. Could he justify taking a zeta tube to Paris for this... Yeah, he could do it. 

"Go put on shoes," Tim says and pushes Cassie up, creating a game plan. They've got six hours before she has to start getting ready, which means that he can call Nicky and get her ready for his arrival at his usual boutique, and to line up a few dresses in Cassie's favourite colours. Despite her costume, she likes a good deep purple and silver. That's not to say she doesn't look good in stuff like red and yellow, but he'd rather her feel comfortable in any way she can. He might have his own preferences towards dresses and colours, but it's up to Cassie what she picks. 

He's getting off track. Tim shoots a text off to Nicky to be ready for him and a date, and to bring out a few tuxedos for him as well. Might as well get a new one. Cassie comes back in a pair of jeans and a jumper she stole from Kon, and he rolls his eyes at her. Shrugging, Cassie slides up beside him and they take the zeta tube together, landing in the cave rather than the public one in the Diamond District. She goes around the Cave for a second, but they really don't have time for her to poke around. 

Tim grabs her hand and pulls her towards the elevator, meeting no resistance. Going to the garage is hard but Bruce is nothing but a people pleaser and despite how it's not exactly a straight trip, there is a button for it. The elevator sliding in and around the manor is undetectable, but Cassie still raises an eyebrow at him. Tim smiles back at her, sliding his hands into the pocket of his pants. He'd been planning on going to a meeting in San Francisco, hence the warning in the calendar, but it had been cancelled at the last minute. Because of that, he's stuck in a stuffy suit. 

"Which car?" He asks and opens up the press where all of the keys are hanging. Cassie isn't even looking at him, gazing at all the cars. Her eyes linger on the McLaren, and he grins while grabbing the keys for it. It's a blue Artura Spider, and it's not the newest of his cars but it's probably one of his favourites. He might call it Cassie now, seeing as it's remained nameless. (There is a car named Kon, a pink lamborghini. He does not have a car named Bart yet, actually.)

"How long did you hide this from me?" She says and runs a hand down the front. Tim just grins wider, opening up the door for her to step in. It doesn't have a roof on it which is why it's been, regretfully, collecting dust in the garage but the weather is surprisingly nice in Gotham today. Zeta tube travelling is the best perk of being a superhero. Two minutes and he's already leaving Bristol when before he was rotting on the couch in Titans Tower. 

He goes as fast as he dares, which is very high above the speed limit. Cassie is a ball of happiness beside him, whooping everytime they overtake someone on the highway. One of these days he might take her out to the race course in Metropolis, and let her drive the Wayne car. (Yes, Bruce bought a race car. No, he does not like it). 

Nicky texts him as he's halfway there, saying she's cleared out the salon and gotten a bottle of champagne ready for him in the cooler. Tim really presses his foot to the pedal then because she will not wait long for him. He nearly runs a red light, but they make it on time. Cassie is red from the wind and excitement and he swears he nearly sees her heart beat out of her chest when he doesn't even slow down to park, swinging into a parking spot outside the shop and turning off the car in the same motion. 

"Ready?" 

"Yes, oh my god, let's do that again." 

"Maybe later," Tim chuckles and winds around the car to open up her door for her since she's still grinning, but she glides right out of the car when he opens the door, hanging off him. Tim raises an eyebrow at her until he hears the shutter and click of a camera and rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around Cassie more firmly and angling her face away from the camera. Sometimes it sucks to be him. He can't even hang out with his friends in peace. 

The shop isn't too fancy, by his tastes. It's got white walls and a mural on the far side of a woman sucking a lollipop for some reason, but the walls are barely visible since they're lined, ceiling to floor, with clothes. He spots a few white dresses a few racks away, and prays they're not wedding dresses since Cassie will absolutely buy one and make a whole scandal about it. There are a multitude of colours around, ranging from blue to brown to luminous green. One side of the store is dedicated to men, the other women, and then the vague area between for non-binaries and people who don't dress their gender. Tim shied towards a few outfits in the middle a few times, but never dared cross over to the women's section. 

Cassie is looking around like a kid in a candy shop. She's the strongest person he knows, absolutely stubborn in her opinion and views, and she's the best team leader they'll ever have. She's honest and caring and kind, but above all that, level headed when they need it. Cassie can lift three times his weight, has punched someone before for telling her to go back to the kitchen, and slapped another so hard he broke his cheekbone on her palm when he told her that she probably spread her legs for every superhero she came across. She, also, is nearly jumping for joy at the sight of a bright pink dress sitting in front of her. 

As Nicky comes over and they get acquainted, hopefully quickly becoming friends and most likely making fun of him, he ponders over where the idea came from that strong women can't enjoy dresses and shoes and shopping. It's a little hilarious, when he thinks about it, how someone's upbringing affects them. He knows that these ideas seem so foreign to him since he grew up with, well, Janet Drake. She spent days in shopping centres, spent thousands on one pair of shoes, and used those shoes to spear someone in the neck with a snarl on her face. 

Strong women, he finds, are easy to spot. They're easy to class as dangerous and wild, full of life and potential to hurt you, but it's the strong women that put on dresses and make-up, that indulge in "feminine" ways that are harder to find and class as anything. He's heard Stephanie complain multiple times that as soon as she does her hair, she's got boys coming up to her and asking how she's handling the stress of being in a pre-med course, or how Bruce underestimated her when she first became Spoiler because of her being a girl. It's so silly to him. 

Tim sits down on a couch, sinking into its soft plush cushions, and crosses his legs to wait. Cassie's and Nicky's voices fill the air as they chat designs and fabrics (Cassie wants something easy to wash, stretchy so she can flex, and low cut), wandering around the store. He hears them briefly talk about her wearing a suit, and matching it with a few Nicky has pulled out for Tim, but the idea gets dismissed when she admits that she would like to look rather girly for meeting Tim's family officially. It doesn't make much sense to Nicky, judging by her hum, but she only points out two pieces and dresses after that. 

His phone bings when Cassie heads towards the changing room, three dresses and two sets of two pieces in her hand as she goes. Nicky follows in after her, stepping briefly on the little podium in front of the mirror. It's a notification from Dick, informing him of a meeting with the JL he's got soon. Sighing at the reminder, Tim calculates how long it'll take to make a powerpoint about Young Justice's efficiency without JL influence, unlike the Titans who sometimes have to report to Batman or their respective mentors-slash-family members. 

"Pretty lady," Nicky says and drops down beside him, crossing her ankles. Her uniform code is rather vague, beside it having to be a black outfit that reaches at least her knees and covers her chest. At this moment, she's wearing a high straight cut neckline dress that has long sleeves, hugging her wide hips and small chest that reaches down to mid-shin. She's wearing dainty heals, the little gold buckle glinting in the light. Tim's delighted to see her, and also ready to be dragged through the mud. 

"Yeah, she is. Probably one of the prettiest I know!" Tim calls, making sure that she can hear him. Cassie's cackle in return echoes through the room and he smiles softly, lingering on the door she's getting dressed behind, before turning back to Nicky. There's a sharp look in her eye, calculating and she reminds him so viscerally of his mother that it strikes him. 

"You've never brought a woman here before," Nicky comments, eyes sliding over to the door as it swings open. 

"I think I need a bigger size," Cassie complains and digs her fingers into the fabric above her chest, shimming around on the spot to pull the dress up higher, "I feel like I'm being squished in very specific areas. As in, my boobs, in case you didn't get that." 

"That's what it's supposed to feel like, hon," Nicky responds and Cassie frowns. It's not a bad dress. He's got a suit to match it already, and he thinks Bruce might have a pocket square to colour match it. The dress is bright cherry red, strapless and most likely attached onto her body through sheer force of will. It reaches mid-shin, pleating at the top and flowing out loosely. He thinks he spots some pockets in it, but Cassie spins around in front of the mirror to see herself, and he loses track of them. 

"What do you think?" 

Two pairs of beady eyes turn to him and he feels like a butterfly pinned to a board. Tim shifts in his seat and stuffs his phone back in his pocket, rubbing his hands together. Opening his mouth, Tim tries to find the right words that won't upset Cassie but he can't, so his mouth snaps closed. Nicky raises an eyebrow and Cassie frowns, taking a step towards him and off the podium. 

"Do you like it?" There, perfectly neutral and if Cassie likes it, then he will absolutely get it for her. Instead of a rather positive tone for Cassie, a confirmation or denial towards his question, he may as well have shot her considering how Nicky rolls her eyes and Cassie's frown deepens, annoyance towards him seeping into her face. 

"You don't like it." 

"That's not what I said." 

"Yes, it is." 

"I don't... hate it." Tim confesses and Cassie tilts her head in question, motioning for him to go on, pulling up the dress again. "The dress is lovely, the cut is beautiful, the colour is beautiful, you just... look uncomfortable in it. And I want you to be comfortable to the best of the dresses capabilities since you'll be in it for hours." 

Nicky nods along, though she keeps her face carefully neutral. Tim has to remind himself that the only reason she tells him when he looks ugly or nice so crudely is because he's a regular customer who likes to have the shop to himself, cleared of all other workers and shoppers alike. Cassie is a stranger and a customer, Nicky can't speak to her the same way she does Tim. Her lack of opinion is noted however. 

"I mean, like I said, it's kind of squishing me but I don't mind." 

"But we could find a dress that doesn't squish you. Baby, if you want it, we can get it. You don't have to get just one dress," Tim says softly and Cassie nods to herself, turning back to the dressing room. He hears the sound of the zipper being undone again, but it hits the back burner since Tim doesn't understand why a flush rose to her chest, blotches of red appearing after he spoke. 

The next dress she comes out in is nice as well, though Cassie doesn't look all too happy with it. It's got thin straps connecting for the straight cut neckline, the fabric pulling across Cassie's chest. It spills out into a blue dress with a sheer gold mesh over it, bunching together into a little rose bun towards her hip. Because of the way it pulls up, it's an asymmetrical cut at the bottom, but the mesh goes on for a bit longer than the blue slip underneath. It kind of washes her out though, her blond hair settling weirdly against the gold mesh. 

Cassie shakes her head when he asks her if she likes it, and steps back into the dressing room. He's beginning to worry that she's taking this a tad bit too seriously, and working herself up over it, and the next time she comes out in an outfit she doesn't like, he steps into the dressing room after her. Nicky takes the que and goes to put back the rejected dresses on the racks, giving them the privacy Tim needs. 

"What's wrong?" Tim asks and steps up behind Cassie, watching her struggle with the clasp for a second before he takes over undoing it. She sighs, long and heavy, and he hesitates before slipping the strap off her shoulder. Her skin is warm under his, smooth and soft in a way his never will be, and he squashes down the flair of jealousy. He wonders, briefly, if what he's about to do is crossing a line but he doesn't think it is. He's seen Dick do it to Wally, surely friends do it. Leaning down, he kisses her shoulder softly, holding Cassie's waist lightly. 

"I'm nervous that... your friends won't like me. Like, the people you work with. I want to look perfect because what I wear, even once, reflects on you. You under play these things, but I know they're important. They're boring, I imagine, but important nonetheless." 

He chews through that in his head for a second. It's true that these gala's and parties are important for his image, which a lot of investors and business partners take into consideration, but they're also dreadfully inconsistent in those opinions. Afterall, if all anyone ever looked as was Brucie Wayne before deciding to invest in his poverty and housing scheme, then Wayne Enterprises would be bankrupt years ago. And it's not Tim they're looking at anymore, but rather Bruce again. Cassie's worries are appropriate but at the end of the day, unnecessary. He's got to be careful about this. 

Take a leap Tim and go with your heart , a soft voice that sounds like Dick in his head whispers and he listens. 

"Cassie it doesn't matter what you look like. It doesn't matter if you show up wearing a swimsuit or a dress because, no matter what, you'll be perfect. You are perfect. And those people I'll be talking to tonight, laughing and drinking with, aren't my friends. Not really. My friends are you, Kon, Bart and, sadly enough, my family. And we already know they love you. But even if they didn't, I do Cassie. Nothing will change that, ever. Okay?" 

Cassie rubs her hands along Tim's, leaning back into him and closing her eyes. Softly, she nods and he buries his nose in her hair, pressing his face into her neck. She sighs and tilts her head so that they're nearly nose to nose, and he sways lightly. There's music playing through the shop, a loud tune that probably belongs in a club instead of a salon like this, but he still sways and she still goes with him. 

"Tim?" Cassie whispers, breath ghosting over his lips. For a second he feels electrified, like maybe he might kiss her, but then confusion ploughs through him because wasn't he just feeling this way about Bart? Is this how friendship is supposed to feel like? He wasn't lying when he said he didn't have many friends. He might not have mentioned people like Tam or Pru, but aside from them, that's it. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I take this dress off now?" Her voice wobbles dangerously and he's close to just hugging her for the rest of the day, cancelling the whole event tonight, before she continues. "It's really ugly." Relief slams through him and he laughs under his breath, really more just air blowing out of his nose than anything, but nods and steps back to help her with the other sleeve. She steps out of it, and he whirls away when he sees her bare back, tan skin going on for miles. 

"You are not wearing a bra." 

"Nope. Grab that purplish one for me?" Tim, having looked upwards after turning around, pats around blindly until he feels some fabric and risks looking down to see the colour. Once he's sure it's the one she's looking for, he hands it over and turns around again, closing his eyes just to be sure. He hears the rustling of fabric, something dropping to the ground, and then Cassie grunting as she nearly falls over stepping into the purple one. He didn't see enough of it to see what it looked like, but a tap came to his shoulder and he turned. 

The dressing room is fairly large, though with two people in it it's a bit cramped. Tim feels the walls creeping up on him even more so when he sees Cassie, beautiful, perfect Cassie wearing the best dress he's ever seen.

Shining in the low light, tiny sparkles twinkle back up at him from the lavender dress, two pieces of silky smooth straps going up and around her neck. Through the mirror he can see that they fall down her bare back, the cut starting at her lower back and leaving a gaping place that shows her spine and the little dimples around her hips and shoulders. It pools around her feet, making her look like a siren stepping out of a lake to seduce him into drowning. He would drown if she was, oh he would. 

It feels like the breath has been knocked out of him, an echo of last night when Two Face aimed a particularly good kick at his chest and constricted his lungs, but he welcomes this feeling. Cassie's eyes seem to be all that brighter with the dress on, so piercing that they go straight through his skin and poking at his soul. Confusion laps against his consciousness but he pushes it back to feel the awe, the low simmer of attraction. 

"You look... I mean, it's amazing. Do you like it?" It's an understatement worthy of being called pathetic, but he can't find the words. Cassie turns to see it in the mirror, showing him her back and he reaches out to smooth a hand along her skin, feeling the goosebumps and the way she nearly tips away only to shudder and move backwards into his hand. Rubbing her sides, Cassie makes a considerable humming noise, before nodding. 

"I like it." 

"Do you love it?" Tim asks, looking at them both in the mirror. He finds that if he looks past her hair and his shoulders, that they almost look like his parents. He disregards the thought because as much as he loved them, as they loved him, he's not sure if they loved each other. And he knows he loves Cassie, knows that she beats in his heart at all times. 

A smile overtakes her face, making a bout of nostalgia and yearning hit him for no discernable reason, and she nods. He pictures what she'd look like tonight, jewellery hanging off her arms and neck and ears, and then dismisses it. She'd look beautiful, no doubt about it, but she looks perfect like this, standing in a dressing room with white socks poking out from underneath the dress and chipped nail polish on her nails. He can see a small spot by her nose and smiles. Yeah, he's buying this dress. 

Nicky is carefully smiling at them when they come out, Cassie doing a small twirl in the dress for her. He snaps a picture halfway through, a grin stuck on her face and fabric swirling through the air. He looks at it, at the love and happiness frozen in the picture and sets it as his background before sending it to the group chat. 

YOUNG JUST US

Dim Trake: *img.png*

Dim Trake: we're done shopping!!! peek the dress on the husband 😍😍

Mom: WOAHHHH 

Blorbo: omg that looks so beautiful how is cassianot oing to wear it akk the tiem???? 

Mom: i thnk i might stela it tbh

Mom: whoops

Mom: I think I might steal it tbh **

Dim Trake: you can't but I can get you one if you want

Dim Trake: spotted a nice blue one 

Dim Trake: or, like, orange whatever colour u want

Blorbo: can i srsly get a ancy dress uring her card??? i saw a nic eone on furth by the harbourand wantd to gte it 

Dim Trake: sure

Handsome Boy: not that this conversation isn't thrilling but I need the man with the big bucks to actually buy my dress now

 

Tim looks up from his phone to see Cassie and Nicky waiting by the till, Cassie having changed back into her own clothes, with a big bag tucked up beside her feet. Nicky is tapping her fingers along the desk, stopping only when he shuffles over to ring up the dress. He instructs Cassie to poke around at a few shoes, covering up the price tag from her. It's not that much but he knows she'd be the slightest bit uncomfortable with it. Although, when she comes back with a pair of silver heels that will give her at least another four inches on him, Nicky rings those up as well. 

"This is for you, it matches the dress. The pocket square needs to be done a certain way, but I know you can do it," Nicky says. Tim nods and picks it up as well, putting it down by his feet where the purple dress and silver shoes are. Cassie raises an eyebrow at them. "Tim's been coming here for, what? Three years? And he still can't dress himself." 

"I can! It was just confusing in the beginning." 

Nicky get's a soft look in her face then, most likely remembering the first time he came into the shop. He's been seventeen, fresh out of a board meeting where he looked like a fool because his suit didn't fit properly and wasn't on par with the others. She'd taken one look at him and herded him over into a dressing room, getting him sized and then throwing suit after suit at him. It had been overwhelming, forcing anxiety on his already grief worn bones, and Nicky ignored the sounds of him crying in the dressing room for five minutes before handing him a tissue and giving him the worst pep talk ever. He'd never been so grateful for a stranger. 

"And yet, here you are. Getting another suit. Having me dress you again," Nicky teases and Tim rolls his eyes. Maybe she's not so much a stranger anymore. 

His wallet is considerably lighter when they leave but it's worth it to see Cassie's face when he tosses the keys over to her, sticking the bags in the back. "Head over to the penthouse, we'll get ready there tonight." 

The evening passes quickly after that in a flurry of getting ready. Once they reach the penthouse, he sends her up with the bags and steps back out to get some lunch. Eating sushi is easy enough with make-up on, or even a fancy outfit, so he tears through town to get to Crime Alley. It's got the best food, though everyone else eyes him once he steps out. Less so when a kid comes over and asks for some money and he hands over a wad, though a few more do get handed out. Briefly, Tim thinks he sees a red helmet glinting in his peripheral vision but Jason would make himself known if he was there, civilian or not. 

When he's back, Cassie is wearing a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt, rooting around in his make-up drawer to find a concealer and foundation that matches her skin tone. Because of that, he has to leave again and run to the nearest sephora shop, face timing her to see which shade is hers. The workers all giggle at him when Cassie says a particular brand makes her break out and he should know this. 

After that, getting ready is easier. Tim throws on a bit of make-up, covering up some scars around his neck (the thin clinical one that Jason gave him years ago that's barely noticeable, but Tim always feels like people are staring at it when he doesn't cover it) and his eyebrows. The mask protects a lot but people tend to aim for the head. 

He barely sees Cassie in the flurry of getting ready, but after two hours, she approaches him with freshly dried hair and a curling iron, asking if he'll do the back for her. It's a familiar motion, having done it before for both Cassie and Steph, and she applauds his skills once he's done. To return the favour, Cassie helps slick back his hair, pulling two long strands out at the front and giving him what she calls "slut strands". 

"You ready to go?" Tim asks her as he fixes his cuff links, turning towards her. Cassie put on a more neutral face, glitter lining her eyes and lips, with a soft lip. She walks over, her heels clicking on the floor, her dress making a soft swishing noise as she goes. Cassie reaches up, twirling one of the strands around her finger, before tugging on his purple tie. 

"Yeah, you?" 

"Yes. Also, we're only staying for about an hour and then going to dinner. I've got a reservation at Eden's, but we can get Bat Burgers if you want." 

"Hm, we'll go to Eden's, yeah." Tim nods along, wrapping a hand around her waist, and pulling her towards the elevator. Bruce texts him, asking when he'll be there, and Tim sends a selfie with Cassie as a response. 

Scratching his face, Tim tries to pay attention to the meeting. It's not often Bruce allows them to sit in on Justice League meetings, especially important ones like this, but they're not discussing anything relevant to him and he's been eyeing the stack of paper in front of him to see how comfortable it could be to take a quick cat nap on. That would be silly though, since in nearly five minutes, he's got to give a presentation on why Young Justice deserves to remain a team free of Justice Leaguers supervision. 

It's about as stupid as it sounds. 

Bruce has been pushing for them to have a senior superhero with them though, at least supervising them through comms and cameras. (That's a whole other fight though. Bruce has apparently had a camera in Tim's lenses this whole time ). Tim, however, is adamant on their independence and the fact that they were formed without adults, grew into what he'd consider senior superheroes, and have no need for supervision now. Bruce is simply being petty taking it to a Justice League level. 

Everyone else looks bored though, so Tim's not alone in this. He wishes that the rest of the team could be here, at least sitting in bored with him, but he's the only one allowed in. Tapping his fingers on the tablet in front of him, Tim wistfully glances around for a world domination scheme to appear or maybe for the Joker to just burst through the doors. Anything to save him from boredom. 

Suddenly, his phone buzzes in the side pocket of his suit, and his eyes widen. He glances nervously up at Batman, who is still sitting calmly and listening to... the Atom? Wasn't Wonder Woman talking the last time he checked? Oh well. Sliding it out of his pocket, Tim checks the notification under the table and grins when he sees who it's from. 

YOUNG JUST US 

Mom: Tiiiimmmmm

Mom: Tim

Mom: Timmy! 

Dad: what

Dad: who changed my name !!!! 

Mom: Unimportant

Mom: where are you ???? 

Dad: ... why ? 

Mom: im hungry 

Mom: and i ran out of allowance

Sighing, Tim looks up and takes another sneaky glance around the room. He must be presenting soon enough but surely he can slip out for a few seconds, meet Kon by the zeta tubes, and then come back? Even if someone noticed he was gone, they wouldn't bring it up. He's Batman's son, surely he can go wherever he'd like. 

YOUNG JUST US 

Dad: meet me by the zeta tubes in the watchtower and ill give you mine

Dad: but i want sushi !! and cake from germany !! 

Mom: anything else, my lord?

Blorbo: cn i grt some susi too?? i like hiw the fihs tastes in m ymouth 

Mom: sorry i dont speak blorbo, need you to spell right 

Dad: YES Kon will get you some sushi hon 

Blorbo: WOOOOOO

Mom: Stop underestimating me when I'm trying to tell Bart to spell properly ! 

Dad: You know he types too quickly to spell properly ! the keys can't keep up with him !

Dad: also i want some chocolate chips 

Mom: aight, ill meet you in five minutes 

"Red Robin will now speak his case as to why the continued independence of his team, Young Justice, and we will then convene on it. Red Robin?" Superman speaks and Tim freezes in his chair, everyone turning to look at him. Oh fuck. Tim nods, hoping to get the chance to sneakily text Kon and say to wait a few more minutes but then he feels more than sees the way Batman raises an eyebrow at him, beckoning him forward. 

Feeling indignation rise in him, Tim pockets his phone and brings the tablet up with him, standing at the front of the room. This is no different from board meetings, the feeling of Bruce's and everyone else's eyes on him, the latter waiting for a mistake and the former sitting back and waiting for him to prove them wrong. The screens light up automatically behind him, showing off graphs and clips taken from Bruce's (creepy) cameras in his lenses. 

He hears the crashing sound behind him from a clip, most likely Tim being thrown into a wall, and then the sharp high pitched whine of Bart rushing past him and slamming into something else. He can picture the fight in his mind, the near shapeless aliens they'd been put against on one of their less than wordly missions, and how the hivemind had been against them in full force. Tim rattles his brain around to try and find the speech he made last night, refocusing on the room and how he's got the full League's attention. 

What he would have given for this when he was seventeen. 

Ignoring that thought, Tim starts his presentation. It's very well done, if you ask him. It highlights their actions -- the strength they've accumulated having no one else to rely on but themselves, the public image of a young team of superheroes seemingly unconnected to any other team, the rough plans for their own base of operations. He also points out their success rate in comparison to when younger teams tend to rely on older mentors and teams. 

Not to throw shade , he thinks, but Teen Titans could be better if they had a little more independence. 

Halfway through, when Tim is pointing to a graph showcasing their inter team relations, ignoring how Wonder Woman and Superman raise an eyebrow, sharing a glance (their break-up(s) had been a bit rough), Tim sees a very familiar face looking at him from the doorway. How Kon got this far into the watchtower without anyone knowing is beyond him, but Tim only looks at him once before continuing. 

He'd hoped that Kon would, he doesn't know, use his brain for a second and listen out for what Tim's doing when he didn't meet him at the Zeta tubes. Taking a deep breath, Tim ignores how Kon tilts his head and widens his eyes, gesturing for Tim to come over to him as if he isn't doing something! Batman and Black Canary start whispering to each other, looking at him, and he grinds his teeth. 

"Young Justice has always acted as an independent force to the, um," Tim trails off, frowning at how Kon is now holding out his hand and waving it around, before sucking in a breath and continuing with his presentation and ignoring the boy, "an independant force to the Justice League. Especially considering out split from the Titans, and the growth it introduced to our more issue prone characters, like Superboy and myself." Kon makes a face at the mention of his former anger issues and the problems they presented for the team, and huffs, popping his hip. 

"On top of that, the Justice League has proved to be suffocating of its treatment to the teams under their care, often flagging concerns that hold little value and pumping them up with words and misunderstandings. The original Teen Titans had been described as ' reckless ', ' immature ', and ' green '. I've pulled those from the records, which you will see on the screens in front of you, but on the left hand side, you'll see that many Justice League members have done the same actions and the same plans, and been praised for it." 

A little puff of anger rises in him when he stares down Batman and sees disapproval in his eyes, the way he barely shakes his head to tell Tim that doing this was wrong. If he thought Tim was going to come here and just allow him to take his team from him all so that he can be more helicopter parent-ish, then he was wrong. Tim isn't going to pull his punches. He stopped doing that when he put on the cowl, when he changed to Red Robin. 

"At this point, I can take questions, but please refrain from allowing personal emotions to cloud your judgement. I understand that the majority of people in this room have a family member or act as a mentor to a member of Young Justice, past and present, but at this time everyone in Young Justice is an adult and are capable of making their own decisions." A few League members raise their hands and Tim answers their questions as politely as possible, ignoring the tapping sound coming from Kon who has started to tap his foot on the ground. 

Yes, while Young Justice currently has no acting leader, that has not presented a problem to them as they prefer to elect someone if they're the best possible candidate for the mission. For example, Red Robin or Arrowette tend to lead stealth missions, while Impulse does ones more timing related. 

No, we would not consider a partial relationship with the League where you can, at any point, drop in and see how we are doing. We are not a pet but a team of people who work all the time, either as heroes or in their civilian identity. 

Yes, Young Justice has taken missions before in space and you'll see that in our reports that we've been logging onto the general system the League has. 

"Is that you in that video?" Green Arrow asks, throwing a video into the middle of the room. The holoscreen lights up and Batman stops breathing entirely when he sees, through Tim's lens cameras, that he'd jumped off a building and nearly been turned into a pancake if it hadn't been for Superboy catching him at the last second, even if they destroyed some of the footpath since the velocity of him falling causes them to skid along the pavement. 

"Yes," Tim answers shortly. 

Green Arrow opens his mouth like he was going to ask for further context but then closes it, deciding that he's alright with knowing Tim was fine and not dead. 

"What about costs? Keeping a team this large, with such property damage and the pending plans for a new base of operations for your team only, how do you plan on funding this?" Green Lantern asks, much to the surprise of seemingly everyone but his friends and Tim. Now, Tim likes Hal. He does. (He won't admit it aloud, but he used to have the smallest crush on him back when he was Robin) But the question he asked is a little too good for Tim to answer off the top of his head. 

Of course having League funding would be ideal. Not only does Batman supply some of it, so do other heavy hitters like Green Arrow and Wonder Woman, but they also receive money from their tourist attractions and the government. It would be easier to have that to fall on. However, he can see it in Batman's eyes now, that admitting that would basically be agreeing to being under the League full time. 

"Well," Tim starts only to see that now Kon has started to mime actions to what he wants and he spends a second trying to parse through it. Oh. He wants him to throw his card across the room to him. "Could you give me a second?" He asks, not waiting for an answer before striding across the room and grabbing Kon's elbow, pulling him into the hall. 

"Finally," Kon groans and Tim whips around to smack him across the arm, frowning when Kon grunts and pulls away. Tim whacks him again, too caught up in his frustrations to care if he closed the door properly or not. Kon floats above the ground, holding his arm and pouting at Tim. "What was that for? That hurt." 

"WHat are you doing?! I am clearly doing something for us, the team!" 

"I need your card!" 

Unbeknownst to Tim and Kon, inside the room Green Lantern starts to smack Black Canary beside him and pointing towards the door, having listened in on their conversation. They share a look and gape at the two heroes. 

Tim sighs and reaches into his pocket, grabbing his wallet and pulling it out before shuffling through his cards and handing one over. Kon holds it in his hand for a second, and he thinks he actually sees stars in his eyes, before gravity has lost all its hold on Tim. For the briefest of seconds, he thinks that it's the watchtower malfunctioning, but then he feels the gentle caress of TTK against his back and relaxes, allowing himself to be pulled into Kon's orbit. They hover off the ground for a second, Kon pulling Tim impossibly closer before he starts to twirl them and him under his breath. 

"Thought you were in a rush," Tim whispers, feeling impossibly fond. The hard thumping of his heart against his chest isn't an uncommon feeling around the other man, he's felt it for years, and he gives in to the soft gooey feeling of love. Around Bart and Cassie it's new (kind of) and confusing, but with Kon it's like a little security blanket for him. He loves Kon, he always has and probably always will. It's a nice little thought to fall onto whenever he feels bad or whenever his relationships seem to start fraying on the edges. 

"Never too much of a rush for you, pretty boy," Kon teases and Tim shakes his head, closing his eyes and angling his head away. He sucks in a deep breath, ignoring how his chest got warmer and knowing without a doubt that he's turning red around his chest and neck, trying to calm himself down. Pretty boy . It's always been a play at ' clone boy' but it's always flustered him, even back when he was Robin and apparently had more control of his bodily functions since no one ever noticed him bushing then. 

"One more second, and then I have to go," Tim replies, feeling Kon nod against his hair. The Red Robin cape sways behind him as they spin in slow circles, Tims feet dangling a little uselessly since the caress of TTK has gone and he's just being held up by Kon. One arm is around his waist, the other holding his hand and bringing it up towards their chests. Tim sighs in relief when he feels Kon's heartbeat underneath his shirt, a reassuring action Kon and Bart started doing back when they first came back. 

Slowly, as if he's reluctant, Kon lowers them to the ground. Boots tapping against the ground, Tim's stomach settles a bit when he's back on hard ground, though he stays close. A few strands of hair fell from his cowl but it doesn't matter apparently since Kon pushes it back, letting it rest against the back of his neck where it's tied to his cape. He twirls a piece around his finger before tucking it behind Tim's ear, rubbing a thumb along his cheekbone. 

"Have fun," Kon says lowly, thumb stilling along his cheek on a scar there. In the suit, Tim never bothers to cover up his scars, no matter how much he has to do it outside the suit. 

"You too." 

Tim steps back after that, reaching back to pull up the cowl again. For a second, he struggles with it before he stops, staring Kon down. He keeps a straight face for a second before he starts to giggle, allowing his TTK to pull the cowl back down again when Tim slips it up. "What are you doing?" 

"You ugly with it on. Like a fruit or a... ball, or something, I don't know. It's just ugly. And you're too pretty to have that thing on your face." Tim scoffs and tries to pull it on again, struggling uselessly against Kon's telekinesis. He huffs and puffs, but all he does is nearly pull a muscle in his shoulder. Kon steps forward again, leaning down and kissing Tim's forehead and then his nose, leaning back and pulling the cowl up all in one go. Thankfully, it hides the flush on his ears and high on his cheeks. 

"Go. Sushi, cake, cheesecake, fruit and a surprise." Kon raises his eyebrows at the extra items added onto the list but nods, turning to walk away. Tim watches him go for a second, wondering just why the affection has started to slowly crawl upwards for the past few weeks, before he blinks and goes back into the room. Conversation cuts off as soon as he swishes into the room, cape billowing behind him, and Tim ignores how awkward it is as he strides towards the front of the room. 

"Where were we?" Tim asks, shifting around on his feet. Batman is staring a hole into his head, Superman doing the same, but he ignores them since he doesn't understand why they're doing that. He looks around the room, settling on Green Lantern seeing as he asked the last question but all he does is shrug and mumble something about getting all the answers he needed. 

A few more questions get shot at him, some in reference to the teams relationships towards each other (odd but okay) and others aiming more towards the types of missions they tend to undertake (any that really gets shot at them or noticed by them, though they have handed one off to the Titans every now and then when it proves to be better suited for a larger team). 

At the end of the meeting, a few members of the Justice League look like they've swallowed a lemon as they walk out, seeing as the vote played in favour for the continued independence of Young Justice. Tim gives a brief description of what that entails, mainly for the records. He stresses that they will not have a senior hero, Justice League or otherwise, supervising their missions and base of operations, and that an infringement of this will be seen negatively and will affect their relationship with other heroes. 

Batman tries to grab his attention as he leaves, the portion of the meeting he's been allowed into finishing up, but he's been thinking about the sushi Kon will have gotten by now and it's making his mouth water. Also, he's feeling a bit bitter that they had to take it to this level for Bruce to just trust him properly. He waves him off, something about a debrief with his own team tumbling from his lips, before he enters his codes at the zeta to leave. 

He's got some delicious food waiting for him and, hopefully, some very nice snuggles. 

Tim sometimes forgets that the stuff he's given his friends would not be perceived as normal things friends do. He knows it's not that out of the norm to give your friend twenty dollars or let them buy you lunch under the promise you'll get it next time. Tim feels like he's being weird by not making them promise a next time whenever someone looks at them funnily out and about. 

However, then Tim looks away from this total stranger who has virtually no say in his life and towards his friends (crushes? He's not too sure at the moment but he's figuring it out. slowly.) and sees the happiness in their faces, then promptly decides he doesn't care. 

Now is one of those times. Tim had gone into Kon's room since he heard him groan, asking what was wrong only to find him grumbling and cursing up a storm in the mirror since he accidentally crushed one of his piercings again. It's absolutely unsalvageable, Kon moaned and groaned, holding up the admittedly beaten up earring. Tim had wondered if it held any emotional value, asked if he wanted him to get it fixed or buy him another pair, and then been promptly shoved in a car with a loud shout of " shoppin day !" 

The mall in San Francisco isn't that bad, though it is a little too small for what Kon wants. There's a mall court in the middle and four floors, along with an underground parking lot that Tim greatly appreciates. He'd brought the porsche this time and it was impertinent that it not a) get stolen, b) maimed by an adventurous teenager or c) used as a shield against any villains or heroes. It's not covered by his insurance. 

"Where to first?" Tim asks, looking around. He sees the regular shops like Forever 21 and Next , but he thinks there's a sign further up ahead for a local jewellers and some fancy shop that Stephanie and Dick are obsessed with. Tim... doesn't understand the need for expensive clothes when there are perfectly good sweats and hoodies at places like Walmart or ( hey,even better! )Kon's wardrobe but to each their own. 

"Can we got to that shop?" Kon asks, pointing towards a shoe shop that has leather boots in it, judging by the few they've got on display. Tim nods and trails behind Kon who practically runs, maybe even floats, over. Inside he sees every type of shoe there is lining the walls, ranging between work boots and doc martens to stuff like converse and heels. Tim eyes a pair of red converse, wondering if anyone would notice if he swapped out the Red Robin boots for those just for one night, but dismisses the idea. His feet always get too warm in converse and then they just plain smell bad. 

Kon makes a beeline for the leather shoes, ignoring the fancy casual ones, digging his way through a couple of younger people to look at the more punk-ish ones. He's like a tree amongst saplings, his height giving him much favour. A few of the younger people, mostly girls Tim realises, look his way and then giggle, whispering harshly to each other. Irrationally, Tim feels jealousy build in him, angry and green, souring his mouth. That's his best friend. His clone boy. 

Tim sidles up next to Kon, maybe a bit closer than he usually would, but Kon just turns to him and asks very politely if he could please get three pairs, he'll wear them all and they'll looks so cool, beside Clark and Lex will hate them which is a point in their favour. Tim looks them over for no discernable reason, knowing he'd buy them no matter what, but on the third one he points out that they don't have them in Kon's size and instead points him towards a different pair, with spikes on them to further aggravate the man's semi-parental figures. 

He almost wishes that he'd told Kon that they could just come back when they got the shoe in his size because Tim is still standing in the exact same place ten minutes later, helping Kon decide what shoe to buy and help him remember if he's got socks that are thick enough to make them feel comfortable for those first few weeks. 

In the end, Tim ends up buying five pairs of shoes, a bag for one of them, and a few accessories for the pair that can swap out the zips and laces. It's more than a little worth it to see how Kon smiles, happy and an inch taller in a pair of his new boots. It's not what they came here for but Tim is a firm believer that going to the mall for just one thing is psychopathic behaviour. 

They chatter aimlessly as they walk through the mall, Tim holding onto as many bags as Kon will let him as they go. It’s fairly easy to grab all the bags he did as Kon keeps pulling him into shops and buying things. Shoes, jackets, an umbrella for some godforsaken reason, and even a pair of yoga pants with a promise that he’s going to go to a pilates class near them, in Gotham. 

“Can we go in there?” Kon asks, pointing to a phone shop. Tim nods, watching him go in and smile at the woman behind the counter. They’ve yet to get to the jewellers shop yet, an amusing thought to him, but he’s got time. If all comes to all, he can always buy the mall and have it remain open until they’re done, comping the workers effectively. 

Tim waits by the door, bags dropped down by his side, as Kon basically floats around the room and pokes around at a few phones. He stops by a pink iphone, one of the newer ones Tim thinks, and asks a worker about it. Scrolling through his own phone, Tim wonders how betrayed Bruce would be if he got an iPhone instead of the usual Wayne Tech one. Probably a lot. 

It would be funny though. 

“Hey, babe? Can you come here for a sec?” Kon calls and Tim looks up, leaving his bags by the door to stroll over to the till. A nice woman is standing behind the till, eyeing him up as he comes over. Her pink hijab is a nice contrast to the white uniform she’s been forced into wearing, even if the shirt she’s wearing underneath is stripped and not a part of the uniform. That's weird — that they haven’t offered an alternative uniform for her, instead forcing her to sweat in hot weather just to keep herself covered up. How betrayed would Bruce be if he bought Apple? A little more, he thinks, but pushes the thought aside. Her name tag reads Aisha, and he smiles at her as he stands behind Kon. 

“He will,” Kon says shortly and Tim frowns, confused. Aisha, though, barks out a laugh and raises her hand to cover her mouth and muffle the snort she lets out. Kon grins, bright and happy, uncaring of his confusion. 

“I’m — I’m so sorry, but I’ve never heard anyone answer like that before,” Aisha giggles out and rings up the new phone and the respective accessories (a phone case, one of those cute phone bracelets, a dinosaur to sit at the end of cable, a spare cable, a pair of in-ear headphones as well as around the ear headphones and what looks like a pop socket even though those are kind of useless), giving him an inquisitive glance with humour racing through her body. 

“Yeah, well, he pays, I give him the sugar, if you know what I mean,” Kon says coyly and Tim gapes, turning to him and whacking him upside the head. Aisha giggles again, pressing her lips together to keep it trapped inside, and now that he’s gleaned enough of the joke to know that in the span of five seconds before he got there, Kon managed to imply he was Tim’s goddamned sugar baby . Ridiculous. 

He does not get the sugar, thank you very much. Tim is only the ‘ Daddy’ part of a ‘ Sugar Daddy’ . 

Nonetheless, Tim pulls out his wallet and inserts his card when Aisha instructs him to. As he puts his pin in, she giggles again and he smiles, watching her try and wrap all of Kon’s (fairly expensive) items. It is funny that Kon said that. He’s going to be a little wasp about it all day though, and is probably going to scold him for it in the car, but it is pretty funny. If Cassie or Bart were here, then they’d all probably laugh about it, but that’s a group of people. Easier to explain it away as a joke that it's for his birthday or something, not that Kon has sex with Tim for this stuff. 

Not that — not that that was ever on the table. No, having… having sex with Kon belongs in the inside of his brain, or even his best dreams. (Even if recently a certain blonde or redhead makes an appearance, for no particular reason.) Tim is going to think about different things now. Aisha and the scandal of her uniform. Yes, he needs to buy whatever company this is and get her a proper uniform. That’s what he’s thinking about. 

“Thank you for your purchase and shopping today,” Aisha says though her voice is strained from laughter, “have a nice day.” 

“You too,” Tim says and then casts a sidelong glance at Kon, “sorry about him.” 

Aisha shakes her head, smiling at him. “It made my day. Probably my week.” Kon elbows him, waggling his eyebrows and smirking at him. Despite the way it makes butterflies pool in his stomach, fluttering around and igniting that little ball of heat that tends to simmer when he’s around Kon, Tim rolls his eyes and looks away, heading back towards the bags he abandoned and letting him pick up the new one on his way back. 

“We’re going to the jewellers and then we’re leaving,” Tim says as they walk through the halls, Tim very clearly shepherding them over towards the jewellers. It’s a nice place, he’s been there before and bought a pair of cufflinks for Bruce last year as a birthday present. He’s not sure if they’ll have anything Kon will like but he might be able to pick up something for Cassie or Bart. Bart has been ragging him about not spending enough time together recently, maybe he can get him a bracelet or a necklace as an apology. “Baby,” he tacks on, knowing that even if he’s making fun, Kon enjoys the pet name. 

“Whatever you say, daddy,” Kon replies, cool as a cucumber, while Tim nearly drops all the bags he’s got in shock. 

“Don’t call me that again.” 

“Why not?... daddy.” 

“Please. Don’t.” 

“Fine. Fun sponge.” 

The jewellers is, thankfully, still open despite how the rest of the mall is closing. The outside of the shop is a light blue, ‘ Jordans Jewellers ’ written in loopy silver metal hanging above it. The symbol beside it is a little ring, and Tim smiles at the irony. He steps inside and gestures for Kon to follow through, looking around to see if they’ve got any earrings on display. He’ll have to modify them just a bit when they get back to the Tower — take off the middle bar, melt it down, infuse it with 0.1mg of kryptonite, then reattach it to the earring again. It’s the only way to counteract Kon’s indestructibility. 

Kon wanders away, looking down at some of the ring cases. Tim notices him rubbing his fingers, looking down at the simple bands below him, and feels a bit of an ache settle in his chest. Looking away, Tim takes to browsing as well, leaving their hefty amount of bags in the designated area by the door. He’s thankful to put them down, but even more thankful for the thought he’ll make Kon carry them around once they’re out of public view. 

A few of the rings catch his eye. A dainty rainbow ring with different coloured gemstones, running from red to purple, running through the whole rainbow on a thin gold band. A gold star stacking ring, with a matching silver moon one beside it. He thinks that there should be a sun one but the holder beside it is empty. There’s a sapphire scatter ring, the exact shade of Kon’s eyes that his breath nearly rushed out of him. Four beautifully cut and placed sapphires stare up at him, the ocean crashing against a cliffside so familiar that he swears he nearly smells the streets of Paris now, the reminder that Kon is back. He’ll… have to come back and get this ring. 

Thinking of Bart, Tim moves on to the necklaces. Bart doesn’t like rings. A diamond cut figaro bracelet is the first one that he sees, though he can’t imagine Bart wearing it. The next is a bulky silver bracelet, chain linked together. He frowns. These are all fairly ugly, in his opinion. The next one is nicer, a rose gold thin chain with pearls attached to it, the clasp hanging down with a cute charm attached to the end. That’s more his style. Though, does it come in gold? That would look much better against Bart’s skin. 

“Baby,” someone whispers from somewhere behind him, Tim turning around to see Kon calling him from across the room. 

“Why are you whispering?” Tim asks, also whispering. 

“I don’t… I don’t know. Why are you ?” he responds, beckoning him over. Tim comes over, making a mental note to go back for the bracelet and the ring. He’ll just buy them all in one bulk and hope Kon thinks the ring is for someone else. 

“Because you are.” 

“Oh, okay,” Kon says normally, “what do you think about these?” Kon points to a pair of gold rimmed pink stoned earrings. Beside them are a few of the same set, though in different colours. The pink or the black are probably the nicest ones. 

“You don’t want to get hoops again?” 

“No, I kinda want some studs instead. I like the hoops but these are a little nicer, don’t you think?” Tim nods. Makes sense. Instead of giving his opinion further, Tim goes up to the front desk where a small and wiry man with glasses has been watching them, smiling at him politely. 

“Can I buy a few things around the shop?” Tim asks and mentally pats himself on the back when, after everything is said and done, he’s picked up a few things. Wally’s birthday is coming up again soon, and since himself and Dick are back together again, Tim got him a plain silver ring with a place to engrave it in the back incase he wants to. He also gets the bracelet for Bart, as well as a matching pearl necklace to go with it. For Cassie (since he’s got to get her something too) he buys her a silver butterfly ring with a plain diamond in it, the stone sitting in the middle and cut in the shape of… well a diamond, not a square. He does buy the sapphire ring for Kon, but the excuse is that it’s for Stephanie. 

Kon gets three pairs of earrings (the pink and black studs, as well as a pair of gold hoops in case he wants to change them out) and a golden pearl cascading necklace. The man, who he learned is named Colin, seems fairly surprised by the sheer amount they buy but seems relieved when Tim takes out his debit card and not a gun, probably. Robberies are still a big thing. 

“Thanks Tim,” Kon says in the car, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Tim pats his knee from where he’s holding it, rubbing his thumb along the inseam of his jeans. For a second, Tim pulls his hand off Kon’s leg to change gears, but he puts it back once he’s done. “I mean it. You didn’t have to do that today.” 

“It’s okay, babe,” the pet name slips out easily, his friends' usage of them slipping into his vocabulary too, “I like doing it.” 

A sunny smile is pointed back at him, the feeling of another kiss being placed on his cheek again. It’s closer to his mouth than the one before that, and for some reason Kon seems fairly breathless when he pulls back. Odd. Tim’s heart is nearly hammering out of his chest. He could have sworn that he got his crush on Kon under control years ago. Rubbing his thigh, Tim turns to smile at him too before looking back at the road. It won’t do to crash. All that’ll happen is Kon will rip off his roof to save them. 

Bart thoroughly enjoys the necklace and the bracelet. He wears them all the time, even assuring Tim that he doesn’t even take them off in the shower. He feels his face heat up when he says that. Kon also loves his ring, expressing that he’d liked it when he saw it in the shop and was a little jealous that Stephanie was (supposedly) getting it. Cassie sputters when he gives her the butterfly ring over dinner, reaching across the table to grab his hand and gaze at him with such fierce adoration that he nearly flings himself across the table at her. 

Thinking about Bart lovingly wearing the necklace and the bracelet is a nice thought, one that gets him through what has possibly been the worst day at work he’s ever had. For some reason, Bruce has absolutely been ragging him about his love life, trying to set him up with anyone and everyone. The list is long and not limited to ; Tam, the intern Brian who got him his coffee, Pamila who works down at reception, a random man they meet on the street at the hot dog vendor ( !!!!! what!!!! the!!!! fuck!!!! ) and Tori who has been subbing in as Bruce’s PA since the last one quit. If she had to deal with this all the time, he would too. It was ridiculous. 

On top of that, Ben from marketing was also on Tim’s back about the “unknown supermodel” he was seen with at a gala a while ago and how he can get her to come in and do a shoot for them. 

Tim’s key slots into the door easily enough, blinking harshly after his eye has been scanned, and then it twists. It’s never bad to be paranoid. It’s why he knows that when he opens the door, he’s got to immediately drop his messenger bag to the floor because an hour ago Bart used his key to get in. 

True to his pattern, with a sharp crack of lightning, Bart hurls himself at Tim once the door is open properly. His bag clatters to the floor a millisecond before he’s got an arm full of strawberry scented speedster, practically roaring in his ear about how much he missed Tim and how nice he smells and how pretty he looks all dolled up for work and how he’s got a nice surprise planned for him. Tim smiles so wide he’s sure Bart can feel it where his face is pressed against his hair, walking them further into the apartment. Bart sets his feet on Tim’s, lightly as to not agitate his recently broken toes. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Tim murmurs, giving Bart a little squeeze. The pearls dig into his collarbone. Leaning back, Bart still standing on his feet, he rubs his nose along Tim’s. It’s silly and cute and it makes his chest feel like it’s on fire with affection and love, love, love. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Told you,” Bart mumbles back, eyes closed and content to breathe the same air as Tim, “I have a surprise for you.” A slip of seriousness gets into his voice, causing him to frown, but pale slime fingers fly past his eyes to smoothen to wrinkle out. The bracelet clinks with the motion, drawing his attention to it. It looks a bit silly dangling off Bart’s wrist, some of the pearls becoming intertwined with the cheap thread bracelets they all made when they were younger, freshly forming Young Justice. “Don’t frown, you’ve got too nice a face.” 

“I frown all the time.” 

“Better stay with you all the time then, make sure you don’t uglify your face.” Tim laughs, settling his hands on Bart’s hips. They feel… strangely smooth? He takes a peak down at what Bart’s wearing and nearly bursts out laughing. 

“Why are you wearing a maids outfit?” It’s not even the men's one either, a frilly skirt hanging off Bart’s hips loosely. The top is definitely too small for him, stretched out across the planes of Bart’s stomach, showing off his belly button and the little happy trail there that disappears back into the skirt. The top has a print of a bow on it, buttons going down, but the frills along the sleeves and the bottom are definitely real. It's made of silk. He’s torn between calling it tacky and calling it hot. Maybe it can be both. 

“It’s part of your surprise.” 

This is… starting to feel like a bad porno. 

Raising an eyebrow, Tim casts a look around the room to find the camera positioned at the couch or maybe the kitchen counter, instead finding that his dining table has been set up properly and the kitchen oven is on. There’s a pot on the stove as well, oil bubbling inside. Tim wonders what’s in it but doesn’t get the chance to go over until he’s being whisked away, sat down in a chair and pushed in. 

“We’re having a completely homemade and nice dinner, just us,” Bart announces and pours Tim a glass of white wine. He’s not even going to ask where he got that. “I asked your scary butler about what your favourite dinner is, and then I asked Dick about your favourite dessert since I know he’s the only one who knows it. Well, now me and him, but at the time it was only him. Truth be told, I’ve been planning this for a while because making char siew is actually a lot harder than it looks. I was going to make you something with fish but then the scary butler told me I might actually kill you because of your allergy…” 

Bart’s chatter fills the kitchen as he putters about, taking out something from the oven that looks suspiciously like a tray filled with chinese custard tarts. He’s excited to have his favourite foods for dinner, but he’s even more excited to have a nice evening in with Bart. He won’t lie, certainly never to himself, that he’s missed him. This just makes the pair of shoes in his bag that got delivered to the office instead of the apartment for Bart even better. Tim will tell him about that later though because now he’s got a plate of char siew meats on rice in front of him, the delicious smell of pork and sweet sauce reaching his nose. 

Sitting across from him, Tim can knock his feet against Barts. The plate in front of Bart looks a bit bigger than Tim’s but with the way his mouth is running a mile a second, he’ll need the energy. 

“I didn’t know your mom was from Singapore,” Bart says suddenly through the conversation. Up until now, Tim hadn’t spoken much but it was a relief after his day. It was nice to just listen to someone else. 

“Yeah,” he says then realises Bart will want more than that, “I lived there for a year or two when I was younger. I think I was nearly seven when we moved back to Gotham, though, so I don’t remember it very well. It might have been when I was five actually, when we came back. I know we left after… an accident I wasn’t supposed to see.” Tim doesn’t like to think about that night at the circus, one of his first memories, and instead thinks about his dinner. 

“It’s why I love this—” Tim points down to the plate in front of him, digging his chopsticks around another time to find a juicy piece of pork “—my mom used to make it whenever she came home. It was the only meal she’d ever make and it was always so good. My dad hated it, but I think he just hated Singapore to be honest.” 

“And the custard things?” 

“Chinese custard tarts?” Bart nods, finishing up his plate. Tim pokes around at his rice a bit longer, trying to think of a way to explain. “My grandmother, on my mother's side, hated me.” Bart laughs suddenly and then schools his face, closing his eyes in what must be shame. “No, it’s okay. You can laugh. She was an old hag and I was glad to be away from her every time we spent time together.” 

Tim doesn’t tend to think about his grandmother. It’s not because she hated him, or because he hated her. It’s because, despite the fact that she was married and widowed fairly young, she lived with her “best friend” for thirty years. They shared a bed. They did yoga together in the morning. They ate together — breakfast, lunch, dinner, supper, snacks, all the time. They travelled together. Tim doesn’t like to think about her because he felt a sort of kinship with her, knowing even then that he was different from the other kids. 

“The only time she liked me was when we were in the kitchen. She loved those things, made them all the time. One day, she brought me into the kitchen and told me I’d know how to make them by the end of the day or I wasn’t her grandson. Honestly, I think she was holding out hope I’d burn them all and she would disown me,” Tim chuckles, looking out into the distance. He swears he can smell her perfume, remembering the way he rested his head on her shoulder whenever she hefted him up onto her hip. 

“That’s lovely, Tim. You must have loved her a lot.” Tim blinks, remembers that he’s supposed to be having a nice night with Bart, and smiles. He doesn’t say anything. Bart looks toward the kitchen with a bit of apprehension, biting his rosy lips until they turn red. “I hope they taste good. Knew I should have just made a cake.” 

Reaching across the table, Tim grabs Bart's hand to steady it, hooking his ankle around his. Shaking his head, he tries to reassure him. “I’m sure they’ll be amazing, Bart. She always said that the secret ingredient was love.” 

It’s presumptuous, that's what that was. Instead of shooting him down, Bart just blinks and smiles at him softly. Dinner continues with ease, flowing nicely into dessert. Maybe his grandmother was right, because the custard tarts are amazing, just warm enough that they don’t burn his mouth but they’re not cold either despite how long it took them to get through dinner. 

Tim drags Bart over to his bed, setting up his laptop to have a movie play in the background while they talk. Bart throws a leg over Tim’s thigh, his bare skin buzzing against his work pants. Tim needs to get changed. He needs to write an email to Bruce, and maybe Lucius about his privacy and work appropriate relationships. He needs to shower. Instead, Tim undoes his tie and tosses it to the floor, a couple of the buttons of his shirt coming undone next. He strips out of the blazer and tosses it onto the floor as well, lying down in bed then. Bart takes off Tim’s belt for him once he gets too uncomfortable with it on, throwing it to the side. The buckle clinks against something on his floor. 

“Why did you do this?” Tim asks, once they’ve run out of things to talk about that aren’t missions. 

“It’s just… you take such good care of us, and I wanted to take care of you for a night. Kind of return the favour. I don’t want to feel like a burden or like we’re taking advantage of how you feel.” How he feels?? Tim’s traitorous heart thumps in his chest, worry running through him. Is he that obvious? That pathetic that he can’t handle his friends calling him nice names and pretty and pressing up close to him that he can’t fall a little in love with them? Is that weird? That he loves all of them, not just Kon anymore? 

“What?” His voice nearly isn’t heard, that’s how meak it is. What if they don’t like him anymore? 

Suddenly, Bart leans in and very lightly kisses him. Not on the cheek or the nose, no on the lips. The world stops turning, he stops breathing and blinking, he swears his heart stops beating for a second until it starts up again, hitting a crescendo in a second. Tim mumbles something in confusion but all he gets back is a meak smile, before Bart leans forward again. 

“You’re not very good at hiding your feelings anymore, Rob,” Bart whispers with a smile, eyelashes fluttering as he looks down his nose at Tim’s eyes which seem to grow wider by the second, “you have a tendency to turn pretty red whenever we try and make a move.” 

“It’s—it’s the Asian flush! You can’t— ‘we’?” 

Bart sighs and sits up, leaning up against the headboard. He looks so silly, the serious look on his face clashing with the ridiculous outfit he’s wearing. Tim sits up as well, feeling almost as if his world has tilted on axis without asking him permission. There’s… there’s no possible way, right? Bart, probably given that they’d literally just kissed (no matter how chaste it was), but Kon? Cassie? No way. No friggin’ way. 

“I should have just stuck to the plan,” Bart mutters and Tim frowns, wishing he knew what was going on. “Okay, so… me and the guys sort of, kind of, maybe, totally, absolutely have a small crush on you — and it’s got nothing to do with like the money or anything! — and we thought we could, like, seduce you? It sounds weird saying it out loud but Kon said we’d have to be slow about it, which is literally torture Tim, I mean, come on ! I called you ‘sweetheart’ like four times! How could you have missed this?” 

Tim blinks, trying to take in all the information given to him. He’s… he’s got a sort of fluttery feeling in his stomach. Alright. Okay. Process this from an outsider's point of view. Bart kissed him. He admitted to having a crush on him. Only, he also admitted that Cassie and Kon did too. Was he lying to… what? Upset Tim? That wouldn’t make sense since he literally just admitted to liking him. And despite how preschool it sounds, Tim likes him too. 

An endless swarm of what-if’s and problems rise in his head, what with them being a team and how it could ruin the dynamic but then a thought occurs to him. They’re… they’re practically already in a relationship. The only part missing was the physical intimacy. Even then, he’s taken to holding any of them as close as possible and he’s gotten a bigger bed just to make sure the cuddle piles can be as comfortable as they can be. They’ve all already forced their way into Tim’s daily life (not that he offered much resistance) and made themselves comfortable. 

The only thing he’s got to do is let them kiss him and dote on him the same way he does them. 

Bart has remained uncharacteristically quiet during this, staring at Tim with a hard look of intensity, but something in him loosens when Tim pushes forward and rests his forehead against his, rubbing their noses together. Chest practically heaving, Tim licks his lips and pushes forward a little more to press along Bart and hesitantly, ever so hesitantly, kisses him. Bart pulls back just a little, giving him a sunny smile, before grabbing his shoulders and pulling him back down to the bed. 

All too soon he’s got the vibrations of a happy speedster beside him, orange hair tickling his chin while Bart’s fingers tap a mile a minute on his chest. Tim is texting the group chat, asking if they can come over, and waiting for the sound of his door to click open. Gods, he’d given them all keys! And gave them access to literally all his security systems. Tim… might be as oblivious to his own feelings as Stephanie says he is. Oh, he’ll have to inform the family of the shift in dynamic. 

Hm , Tim thinks as Kon and Cassie slip through his bedroom door and smile and laugh at the sight in front of them, maybe I can tell them later. Definitely later. Preferably when I’m not even in the States. 

Spain should be nice this time of year. 

Sleep has been tugging at the edges of his consciousness for the past twenty minutes, what with a line of heat lying on top of him, but once Kon and Cassie flop down onto the bed beside him and give him each their own little kiss, he finds that sleeping has never been easier. 

Never in a million years did Tim think he’d have this life.