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Chapter Text

Tim and Bernard were running from the apocalypse straight into the sunset. It was laughter, crying, and a whole lot of mutual love. Actually, they weren't running, but Tim was driving a nice red convertible car while Bernard hummed Cigarettes After Sex as he played with the wind through his fingers. Next to them, the meadows stretched into forests and the forests into mountains. They were in a remote part of the frontier, just the two of them against the world, escaping an avalanche that was coming before they even knew it. The snowball was gathering, but they were ignoring it to keep moving toward the beautiful sky that awaited them at the end of the road. 

"I feel great," Bernard blurted out, trying to catch his breath. "This is the best idea we've ever had, I'm so glad you agreed." «That you took a break from Robin just for me», he didn't add.

Tim, eyes heavy and trying to focus on the road, sketched a soft smile and took one hand off the steering wheel to place it on Bernard's which was near the handbrake.

"Hey, we needed some time to ourselves. Besides, you know me, I love adventure," he laughed. 

And god, it was so hard not to tell him, yes, he knew, he knew how every night he went out to save the world, putting his life at risk in exchange for just the adrenaline and the feeling of satisfaction, with no reward or thanks in between. But he couldn't, Tim didn't know and didn't have to know that Bernard knew he was Robin. If his boyfriend didn't want to make him part of that side of his life yet, he would wait. Give time to time, he had patience and the certainty that together they had a lifetime ahead of them to learn each other's secrets that needed to be known. Some others could be kept hidden, like the embarrassing theories about Robin actually being a stripper that Bernard had made in the darkest days of his teenage years. 

"And I love hanging out with you," Bernard murmured. Tim just smiled.

They suddenly went through a tunnel consisting only of leafy trees. It felt magical. Actually, everything felt magical when they were together, whether it was playing video games or spontaneously driving across the country in an old-fashioned convertible. Bernard felt so loved, and he loved Tim so, so much. He wanted to run away from the world forever if it meant he could have him by his side infinitely. Every second was so precious when they were together. 

He turned up the volume on the music on the radio, singing Falling in Love without really letting the air out of his mouth, just miming and squinting as if he could feel every musical note. It was so appropriate for the moment. He felt so in love and peaceful. 

The shade of the trees left only small patches of sunlight illuminating them both, but it didn't need any more for Tim to shine. His boyfriend looked exhausted, barely focused on the road. Bernard knew that before his sudden trip he'd had to face Killer Croc and was probably hiding a wound somewhere, and his heart clenched at the realization that Tim was doing everything he could just because Bernard longed for them to spend time together. 

"I feel like we're running from the apocalypse," Bernard commented, in an attempt to get his boyfriend to wake up a little. Tim made a small sound to signal that he was paying attention to him, so he continued, "You know, full speed ahead, just staring straight ahead as if the buildings were collapsing behind us, with the world being destroyed by aliens or the villain of the day."

"Very romantic."

"Yes."

The conversation was lost there. Bernard continued to navigate his thoughts on the matter. Truth be told, the situation was as if they were fleeing a war, the one Tim was living through on a daily basis. They were running from the life Tim sacrificed so much for just for five minutes of romantic comedy. And it was worth everything in the world. Even when the next day they would have to return to Gotham and Bernard would have to deliver Tim into the clutches of the cruel uncertain fate of superheroes. Living his personal apocalypse by having to go on with his life unaware that his crush was putting his own at risk.

"We've had to run from the apocalypse too many times before, Bern. Don't manifest it." Tim pleaded jokingly. However, that comment had taken too long and Bernard didn't need to be the protégé of the world's greatest detective to pick up on what state Robin must have been in to respond so slowly. 

"Pull over. Let me drive for awhile." 

"No, it's all right. You must be tired," sighed Tim.

"Shut up and stop the car, Timmy. If I'm tired, you're already dead. Let your fabulous boyfriend show you his Formula 1 skills."

Tim groaned, but also smiled, a little wiser, and parked the car on the side of the empty sidewalk, only surrounded by dry grass and a few cows.

"I'd rather know your school bus driver skills, thank you very much. Leave your inner race car driver well hidden for now."

The car came to a stop along with Bernard's laughter. The sun was still dropping along with the heat, they had exited the tunnel of trees, but the forest was already accompanying them on the sides a little further on, so the shadow continued to spread around them. Tim opened the door and unbuckled his seatbelt, making to stand up, when Bernard stopped him, pulling his hand to return him to the seat. Tim watched him curiously, however, allowing himself to be pampered when Bernard stroked his cheek with the cool hand that was previously playing catch in the wind. 

"You're wonderful even when you look like you came out of the middle of the apocalypse, you know that?"

Tim snorted. He placed his hand over Bernard's and stroked his knuckles. 

"Yeah, right," he said, squinting. "And you when you're trying to look cool."

"Please. I am cool, Timmy. Remember that."

Tim nudged his hand and with a chuckle switched places with Bernard, using the passenger side. Bernard climbed out of the side and into the woods waiting ahead, the sunset slowly disappearing as Tim's breaths became slow and steady beside him, falling asleep. Satisfaction coursed through his body as he realized that Tim trusted him enough to sleep peacefully with him standing guard. 

It wouldn't hurt to say that he fell in love just a little bit more. 

Chapter Text

The night was sunny, if that made any sense. It was a warm summer night, and they could feel the vestiges of the day's sun in the warmth emanating from everything around them, including their bodies. 

Tim's face, now much more rested, was beginning to spot small freckles above his cheekbones from exposure to the sun for most of their journey to the lake house they were headed for. While Bernard was a pleasing pink in the cheeks that made his skin appear slightly darker in contrast to the blonde of his hair. They looked lovely, but more because of the happiness they radiated together than the burns they wore on their faces. 

"So, what do you think?" asked Tim, pointing to the stone house with both hands. It was a big place, not like a mansion but like a manor, framed with stones at the base and brick and wood upward, with a large oak veranda extending under a roof toward the front, with a rocking chair on one side and a swing for two looking over it on the other side. Plenty of potted plants were everywhere and the fireplace extended gigantically upward giving a greater impression of the one-story house. 

"I love it, Tim, where did you get this place? I feel like I'm in that Barbie and her sisters Christmas movie..."

"Bern, what the hell," he guffawed. "What movie is that."

"I'm not even going to judge you for not recognizing Barbie movies because I know you're a loser, Drake," Bernard snorted, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "I hope you've at least seen the one with the princess school or the twelve dancing princesses."

It was Tim's turn to cross his arms and snort.

"Please, I may not be an expert, but I have culture. And a brother with really special tastes."

"Dick?"

"Dick."

They looked into each other's eyes with mock seriousness for a long moment until they couldn't take it anymore and exploded into laughter, holding their stomachs with both hands or slapping their knees. 

"Dick could be our okay, Hazel Grace," Bernard scoffed.

"That's gay and disastrous in so many bad ways," coughed Tim, exhausted from laughing uproariously.

"But seriously already," Tim exhaled, then plastered a soft smile on his face and walked toward the entrance with Bernard following him. They hadn't taken any of the few things they were carrying with them for their weekend getaway out of the car yet, but they probably wouldn't need them until the morning, so Bernard didn't mention anything and just followed him smiling just as fondly. "It's of the family, I guess. Dick mentioned it a while back and showed me pictures, and I... I really wanted to come with you. It might sound a little silly, but when I saw it, it reminded me of you."

Tim turned his back on his boyfriend to open the door, which gave Bernard a chance to hide the blush on his already red face and scratch the back of his neck without his body language exposing how embarrassed he felt. 

"Ah, me, haha," he coughed. "A house reminded you of me?" he said more sharply than he intended. 

"Well, yeah, you know...," Tim kept his head down as the entrance opened and he turned on the lights, and when they stepped forward, Bernard's heart fluttered. "It's just that I was, uh, triggered by the same... the same feeling."

Bernard couldn't have been more self-conscious. 

Not only was the house beautiful and immense, but inside it felt fucking cozy despite being cold from disuse. It felt homey, the kind of home that at Christmastime was loud and warm, very familiar and loaded with love. The kind of home from which you have only good memories and precious experiences, and you can only feel loved.

"Tim is...," Bernard inhaled deeply, holding back a string of compliments that would create a cheesy tension he felt was unnecessary. Instead, he cleared his throat. "It's ours for the whole weekend, really?"

Tim nodded, fiddling with the hair that fell over his forehead. 

"Mm-hm."

"Cool."

They didn't do much else after that besides airing the place out, shaking off some dust, and uncovering the furniture. They'd eaten along the way, taken turns driving and taking naps in the car, and even had time to stop for a break and flirt, so they weren't tired, hungry, or in need of cuddling enough to find an excuse to snuggle. Would they share a bed? That was another story.

Although they had arrived well into the night, it still wasn't cold and they were warm after cleaning up. Without being suggested beforehand, Bernard walked across the driveway once again and settled into the porch swing to gaze at the stars in the night sky. Before long Tim arrived and settled in beside him, leaning against his shoulder. 

"Do you know what the brightest star is?" asked Bernard. 

"Mm? No. I mean, I guess it's relative."

Bernard snorted, rolled his eyes, and buried his elbow in Tim's ribs. 

"I'm the one with the theories here, Timmy. But right now I'm trying to be corny, don't screw it up."

Tim guffawed and buried his nose in Bernard's neck. He let out a pleasurable hum and closed his eyes. 

"No, Bernard, I don't know what the brightest star is."

«You», he didn't say, but the intent was in his next words. "The one closest to us."

"The sun?"

"Yes, Tim, the sun," he snorted. 

And he settled for that, hoping that Tim deep down understood that the one closest to Bernard that night was not the sun, but him.

Chapter Text

Finally the night reached its peak and Tim and Bernard decided that they had spent enough time outdoors. The two entered the stone house, holding hands, and began unpacking some snacks that they left inside the cooler.

"Cookies?" offered Tim.

"Chocolate sprinkles?"

"Of course," he obviated. "And Alfred made them, one hundred percent recommended, you won't regret it."

"As if anyone could regret eating that kitchen god's food, Timmy. I'm not an idiot."

"You sure about that?" he scoffed, tossing a tupperware of cookies to Bernard at the same time. He caught them and pouted with a frown.

"You are," and stuck out his tongue at him. He opened the tupperware and chewed with feigned and exaggerated anger.

"Yes, yes, I am. We are. Idiots."

Idiots in love.

Tim settled next to Bernard on the couch and draped an arm over the blond's shoulders, leaning against the backrest. Bernard took the opportunity to snuggle in, sliding his body down a little on the couch so he could be better buried against the body of his boyfriend, who was slightly shorter.

"God, if we get married someday, we have to live with your family. We can't deprive ourselves of your grandfather's food," Bernard groaned, extending a cookie up to contemplate it as if it were a deity.
Unable to help himself, Tim tensed at his words. He hadn't thought Bernard would project so much. Although it could just as easily have been a harmless comment that he hadn't previously thought about. Tim had a bad habit, or gift, of overthinking things. Sometimes it was good, like solving a case, other times it only helped to add to his anxiety problems.

The truth was that his family was not fully aware of his relationship with Bernard and recent, or not so recent, self-discovery with bisexuality. Bruce, his father in every way that mattered, was fine with it, but he couldn't help but be a little scared for everyone else. He always expected the worst, he was trained for that. His friends, the rest of his family, everyone he knew? They were all so different. So many different reactions. Some that he wouldn't care about, some that could ruin his life.

Steph had been a good first step and he felt ready for Cass to follow. He trusted them, his Batgirls were the best. His Robins, on the other hand, were minefields. He didn't expect an aggressive or negative reaction from them, he was just scared to show that private part of himself to his brothers. Then there were his friends, who, while he knew would support him through everything, could also be somewhat overwhelming.

That was it, he was afraid that their reactions would overwhelm him, even if it was on the positive side. Damian wasn't going to care, it would probably only annoy him a little; Jason could be a pain in the ass, but it would surely all end with a pat on the shoulder or his brother ruffling his hair... Dick would want to know everything. And he didn't know how much he still wanted to share of his own with Bernard.

Overwhelmed, yes. He felt that way so alone drowning in his own thoughts.

"What's wrong?" asked Bernard. He looked up at Tim and snuggled a little closer.

"Nothing, it's just... Ah, I don't know, Bernard. Do you think... we'll be together forever?" he asked in an embarrassed mumble.

Damn corny. So had been the question. Was it even possible, though? With the risky life he led, going out every night as Robin to take on the worst scum of Gotham and the world, the universe, actually.

He dreaded leaving the cave each day knowing he might never return while Bernard waited for him, naive to his secret life, unaware that they might never see each other again.

Tim wanted them to be together forever. It had taken him a while to realize how he felt, but when he knew he was in love, he had fallen hard and he was sure he could no longer climb out of the love hole he had willingly dug himself into. But what about Bernard? Would he really want them to be together until the end of their time if he knew that every day with Tim could be his last?

"Timothy," Bernard snorted. "I have a present for you."

"What?" he questioned, confused.

Bernard just chuckled and settled back on the couch, making sure he was face to face with Tim. He held out both arms as wide as he could, as if expecting a hug and, at the same time, stretching after getting up in the morning.

"You?" tried to guess Tim.

"Me, Tim. Me, my youth, my whole life, Timothy Drake, I'm giving it to you. Hell, I'd already given it to you, but it looks like I have to clear it up."

"Bern," he laughed wearily. "It's not..."

"No, no. Really. And don't worry about paying. It's my treat."

"What?" this time Tim guffawed. "Don't talk like you're my dinner," he snorted, or acutely aware of what he'd just said.

Bernard bit his lip, completely flushed. He lowered his arms and cleared his throat.

"Uh, right. You can... we can, you know?" he stated in a breathy whisper.

"Can we...," Tim blushed when he understood what they were suddenly talking about. "Oh, no, no, that's not what I meant, I promise. I just, I..."

"Don't panic Timmy!", Bernard began to laugh, hugging him again and hiding in his neck. "I'm kidding. We'll take our time. We have the rest of our lives, Tim, I promise," he said softly. And, as if reading Tim's mind, he added, "It doesn't matter if they're short, if we crash back to Gotham and it ends there or if we have another fifty years together ahead of us. I promise you I'm going to stay until you want me to go."

Tim's heart shrank and he felt his throat tighten, but he smiled very big, even though Bernard couldn't see it, and stroked his boyfriend's hair.

"I'd like that, yes. And I'll do my best to never tell you to leave." Though he couldn't promise he never would, not as long as Robin was still in his life.

"I know, Tim. Don't worry."

And they said nothing more, sinking into the warm silence that enveloped them. A short time later they stood up and went to sleep. Together, they shared a bed and cuddled all night, but nothing more. Not yet.

Chapter Text

Tim and Bernard had spent the night in each other's arms, though more accidentally than on purpose. It turned out that Tim was a koala bear at night, so he unconsciously clung with legs and arms to whatever was near him as they slept. Of course, he wasn't sure about that when he agreed that Bernard and he would share a bed at night. Every time he had slept with someone else, they were worse than he was in their sleepwalking positions, so his own bad habits didn't come out. However, Bernard turned out to be an extremely quiet bed partner, waking up in almost the same position in which he had gone to bed in the first place. Tim wouldn't know it, but Bernard giggled a little at him as they slept, enjoying his boyfriend being unconsciously affectionate. But that, too, was another story.
For now, Bernard slept peacefully, though the sun was already up and Tim, who had awakened exhilarated from an overwhelming sleep and had already gotten up, tossed and turned in the kitchen as he thought. He thought and thought, as was what he did best.

It turned out that maybe Tim Drake was a little in love. 

He noticed it in every little moment. Even as he paced and paced in the kitchen like an idiot, he did so thinking about Bernard. When he turned over in bed and saw his empty beside him (which hadn't happened that morning), or when he ate and remembered his boyfriend laughing with his mouth full. As he brushed his teeth and imagined Bernard's smile. As he fought crime and his heart leapt with the fear of never living another day with the one he loved. Everything. In actions big and small, Bernard was always on his mind. 

So maybe he was a little in love. Or quite in love, actually. 

Even if Bernard had been the first of the two to realize the romantic feelings he felt for the other boy and thus also his true self, the truth was that Tim had fallen harder. It wasn't to belittle his boyfriend's feelings, he just felt so drowned in the swamp of love that he didn't think he could ever get out. And he was worried about doing something so that Bernard could get out of his amorous self-absorption first. Screw things up. 

It was with those insecurities in mind that he woke up that morning at the lake house, those unwarranted thoughts squeezing his heart and making him wake up more tired than he had gone to sleep. Nevertheless, with his best disposition he decided that he would prepare breakfast, hoping to surprise his boyfriend and give him a pleasant morning before they went out to hang out to return to Gotham in the afternoon.

Of course, it didn't go as he expected because that was the kind of luck Tim Drake carried with him.

He put the bread on toast, mixed eggs, sugar and milk to dip other slices of bread and make French toast, at the same time he turned on the coffee pot and set the milk carton aside on the side of it. He took the maple syrup out of the refrigerator and the stick of butter. Everything they had loaded for the trip. He also questioned whether to make some scrambled eggs, but instead set the mix aside to chop up some fruit; a couple of apples and bananas. 

"Good morning, Timmy," Bernard said, appearing down the hallway with a big yawn. At the same time, he stretched out his arms and allowed his exposed muscles to flex to the delight of Tim, who was distracted by tight biceps and slipped the knife with the fruit chopper over his left index finger. 

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed. He tried to lay low by quickly grabbing a dish towel and covering the bleeding finger. "Hey, Bernie," he laughed hysterically. "How did you sleep?"

Luckily for Tim, Bernard was still too focused on morning stretches to notice the wound he was hiding. So Tim turned around and pulled out a couple of mugs to place on the kitchen counter. Then he pulled out the coffee pot and set it down next to the mugs, then began dipping the bread into the egg and milk mixture.  

"Need some help, handsome?"

Tim was sure he had just choked on his own saliva, dead and back to life in an instant. 

"Ah, yes, no, I'm fine, why don't you sit down?"

Bernard nodded, humming a random pop song and took a seat on the kitchen peninsula. He settled back on his arms and watched with a quiet smile on his face as his boyfriend attempted to prepare breakfast when it clearly wasn't one of his fortes. Then he sniffed and noticed something burning. 

"Ah, Timmy, I think you're missing something, are you sure you don't want me to...?"

"Ah, fuck, the toast!" snapped Tim, ignoring his boyfriend's proposal.

He quickly pulled the toast out of the toaster, which was crisp and blackish, but probably still edible. He did it quickly and roughly, however, and the makeshift bandage slipped off, revealing the bit of blood that came out with the cut and causing Bernard's eyes to widen like saucers. 

"Shit, Tim, are you okay? You're bleeding. Come here."

"It's okay! It's okay. Latte?" he offered. He turned quickly and before he could react, the cup on the side of the counter fell to the floor in a clatter. Tim wanted to cry out of frustration. "Shit, aah," he sighed. 

"Okay, that's enough, Timothy. Let me help you," he sighed. 

Tim rubbed his hair hard and nodded, sitting exhausted on the kitchen floor next to the broken mug. 

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Bernard looked at him tenderly and squatted down beside him. He thought about how he could have such an adorable boyfriend. If Tim could see it through his eyes he would realize that he didn't have to make even the slightest effort with him because his very existence made Bernard the happiest in the world. He was in love and no small mistake would put an end to that. Not even a disastrous breakfast. That was just adorable and made Bernard love him even more, if that was even possible. 

"I don't need you to coddle me, Timmy. I like you, even if I have to get up and fix my own breakfast, or even if you give me cereal and milk with the milk first for breakfast."

"Milk goes first, Bernie," he laughed listlessly.

"Whatever you say, Timmy. I'll pretend you're right even if you know the cereal goes first."

They both laughed softly and Bernard stood up, giving Tim his hand to help him stand as well. 

"Come here. Let me fix it," he said. He pointed to the bleeding mess on Tim's hand with his head, "You're an idiot." The cutest one of all, he didn't add. "What were you trying to do?"

"Fruit and French toast. Do you like it?"

"Yes, Tim, I like you."

Tim was a bleeding mess. His hand was dripping red liquid and all his other blood had gone to his face, making him look like a tomato. 

"I like you too."

"And I like black toast too."

"Fuck off, honey."

Chapter Text

The drive back was quiet and pleasant. The wind ruffled Bernard's hair as he drove and Tim's head bounced on his chest wearily. The blond boy smiled looking sideways at his boyfriend. He was fucking in love with that boy. He wanted to take him home and take care of him like he deserved, spoil him and stuff his face with kisses. 

"Timmy," he called softly. His voice was hoarse from the temperature changes and his hands cold from the wind. "We're already in Gotham."

"Mm," Tim hummed. He stretched his arms skyward and Bernard reached up with his right arm to stroke the bicep bared by the tank top. Summer lashed them pleasantly and Tim sighed with pleasure. "Want me to drive, Bernie? I'll walk you home."

I'm home, Bernard thought. A convertible, moonlight barely peeking through and a place in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Gotham City. Yes, ultimately, that was home because Tim was there with him. He didn't need her to take him home, anywhere they were together would be home. 

Nevertheless, he agreed. 

"Okay." 

Bernard lined up the car and they exchanged seats, with Tim now wised up. Anyway, Bernard turned on the radio to lighten the mood and keep fatigue from getting the better of Tim. 

"I'm going to sing to you," Bernard announced. He began to sway his arms up and head to the rhythm of the old-fashioned music. "I say these things 'cause I'd like to knoooow," Bernard sang in his hoarse voice. He tried to clear his throat and continued. "If you..." he garbled the lyrics and hummed. "Lonely as I am and if you miiiind."

Tim joined him and together they chanted.

"Sharing the night togetheeeer, oooh, yeaaah."

Tim left one hand on the steering wheel and with the other took Bernard's. They continued singing until the street signs in Gotham brought them closer to the residential area where Bernard lived with his parents. Although since he had come out he actually spent most of his time alone at home, his parents making excuses to stay away from him and not spend time together. He knew he had been disappointing them for a long time, but the loneliness still hurt. Luckily, his real home wasn't that big, empty house, but with Timmy. 

The radio surprised them with John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John and together they sang Summer Nights at the top of their lungs before parking outside Bernard's house.

"All right, my summer love. At your front door."

"Thank you, my one-that-I-want." 

Silence remained between them for a moment before Bernard got out of the car. When he did, he leaned against the door and extended a hand toward Tim, who promptly held it between his own.

"What's up, Bernie?"

"You, uh, want to hang out? My parents aren't around, not right now."

Tim pursed his lips and swallowed saliva. He nodded. 

"Well, let me park better. I'll be in in a second."

As Tim maneuvered the car, Bernard turned on the living room light and left the door open for his boyfriend. He settled into one of the armchairs and waited.

Tim walked in a couple of minutes later: car keys in one hand and the other on his hip. He looked at Bernard with a smile on his lips and went to sit next to him. 

"I had a great time, Timmy. Thank you. You're a treasure," Bernard sighed. More sincere than he was used to being. Before Tim could say anything back, he leaned over his hands and planted a soft kiss on him. "Thank you," he repeated.

Tim's breath was cut off. His heart pounded wildly and in a second he had Bernard beneath him, their lips colliding bravely and their breaths fluttering. They broke apart when Bernard's knee brushed against Tim's crotch by accident.

"I adore you," Tim moaned.

Bernard nodded. He kissed the corner of his lips, his eyelids and each cheek, then his neck and jaw. 

"I adore you, I adore you so much, Timmy."

Then he hugged him. Bernard hugged him tightly, holding on to everything they'd been through together that weekend, the road trip and the night of cuddling they'd shared. 

Tim hugged him just as tightly, clinging to his boyfriend's t-shirt and the comfortable muscle of his flexed arms. He didn't want the days spent being just the two of them against the apocalypse to end.

He wanted to have Bernard all to himself every day, every night, every second. 

They kissed again, and, before he could think it through, Tim dropped a bombshell. 

"Bernard, Bernie," he said as Bernard kept kissing him all over. "Let's share the night together. Every night. Let's have our own home."

Bernard gasped. Their eyes met. Both of their breathing cut off and Tim spoke again. 

"Let's live together."