At All.
Pairing: Bruce/Tim [Batman]
Date Written: December 14, 2005
Notes: Sequel to this.
Tim is frustrated and has hit the breaking point by the time he decides to use those two little words against Bruce. For weeks, Bruce has done nothing but address him as Robin, as though Tim really is just one kid in the long line of many in Bruce’s life and not an actual individual named Tim. Not to mention an individual that Bruce has had sex with. Plus all those patrols Bruce has sent him on lately through areas of Gotham that really could’ve done without Tim’s presence have really pissed Tim off. Bruce isn’t just treating Tim like a kid, but like a persona non grata. So when Bruce ignores him yet again, Tim stalks up behind him and leans in to murmur in Bruce’s ear with his best imitation of Bruce’s voice, complete with mocking emphasis.
“Oh, Dick.”
Bruce pauses in what he’s doing, glances everywhere but where Tim is standing and goes back to what he was doing. Tim growls in frustration and tries again, louder this time.
“Oh, Dick.”
Once again, Bruce looks around for a second before going back to what he was doing. “I thought Dick was here.”
“No, he’s not here. But you wish he was, right?” Tim practically snarls.
“I suppose he could be of some use on this case,” Bruce answers without looking up.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Seventh Street, Robin.”
“Tim. It’s Tim, Bruce.”
Bruce doesn’t even look up as though he expects Tim to follow the order regardless. Tim growls and grabs Bruce’s shoulders.
“Just admit it.”
“Admit what?” Bruce asks as he shrugs Tim’s hands off.
“You want Dick.”
Turning slightly, Bruce raises an eyebrow as though to say, what’s your point? Tim’s mouth opens and closes and then opens again.
“You want Dick and you don’t want him to know that because-“
“He already knows.”
Tim’s mouth snaps shut. “What?”
“Seventh Street, Robin.”
“No. Why did you…?” Tim swallows down his frustration. “You’re a bastard.”
“Now, Robin.”
Tim turns on his heel and starts to stalk over Redbird but stops halfway and turns back to barrel into Bruce. It’s a futile gesture. Bruce just grabs Tim around the waist and throws him up onto his shoulder like he’s a small child. Tim kicks his legs and beats on Bruce’s back and generally tries to get away, but gives up after only a few seconds. Bruce drops Tim back to the floor and Tim lands with a thud. He looks up at Bruce with a scowl.
“So, do you fuck with or should I say fuck all the Robins or am I just special?”
Bruce’s mouth turns up into a smirk but he doesn’t say anything. Tim kicks out at Bruce’s shin before kipping up to his feet.
“What was the fucking point of that? Was it yet another test? Did I forget my own birthday? What?” Tim barely pauses, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. “Well? Did I pass?”
Although it’s hard to tell with Bruce, Tim is sure that he’s considering saying something. Whatever it is, he apparently dismisses it because he turns back to the computer console without a word.
“Goddamn you,” Tim hisses. He continues to curse Bruce up and down until Bruce finally turns around.
“Enough.”
“What? Did I hurt your feelings? Oh, wait, I forget, you don’t have any of those.”
“Robin.”
“Bruce.”
“Tim.”
Bruce says it so softly and with so much reverence, like he should’ve said it when they were in bed together, that Tim snarls all over again and grabs Bruce’s head to pull him down for a heated kiss. He keeps kissing Bruce like that until Bruce finally gives in and kisses him back. When he does, Tim pulls back and slaps him.
“Answer my fucking questions.”
“You already know the answers.”
“No, I don’t-“
“Seventh Street, Tim.”
Tim sighs. Whether he knows them or not, Bruce isn’t going to reassure him with them. Chalking it all up to yet another twisted trust exercise, Tim turns and heads toward the Redbird.
Date Written: December 14, 2005
Notes: Sequel to this.
Tim is frustrated and has hit the breaking point by the time he decides to use those two little words against Bruce. For weeks, Bruce has done nothing but address him as Robin, as though Tim really is just one kid in the long line of many in Bruce’s life and not an actual individual named Tim. Not to mention an individual that Bruce has had sex with. Plus all those patrols Bruce has sent him on lately through areas of Gotham that really could’ve done without Tim’s presence have really pissed Tim off. Bruce isn’t just treating Tim like a kid, but like a persona non grata. So when Bruce ignores him yet again, Tim stalks up behind him and leans in to murmur in Bruce’s ear with his best imitation of Bruce’s voice, complete with mocking emphasis.
“Oh, Dick.”
Bruce pauses in what he’s doing, glances everywhere but where Tim is standing and goes back to what he was doing. Tim growls in frustration and tries again, louder this time.
“Oh, Dick.”
Once again, Bruce looks around for a second before going back to what he was doing. “I thought Dick was here.”
“No, he’s not here. But you wish he was, right?” Tim practically snarls.
“I suppose he could be of some use on this case,” Bruce answers without looking up.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Seventh Street, Robin.”
“Tim. It’s Tim, Bruce.”
Bruce doesn’t even look up as though he expects Tim to follow the order regardless. Tim growls and grabs Bruce’s shoulders.
“Just admit it.”
“Admit what?” Bruce asks as he shrugs Tim’s hands off.
“You want Dick.”
Turning slightly, Bruce raises an eyebrow as though to say, what’s your point? Tim’s mouth opens and closes and then opens again.
“You want Dick and you don’t want him to know that because-“
“He already knows.”
Tim’s mouth snaps shut. “What?”
“Seventh Street, Robin.”
“No. Why did you…?” Tim swallows down his frustration. “You’re a bastard.”
“Now, Robin.”
Tim turns on his heel and starts to stalk over Redbird but stops halfway and turns back to barrel into Bruce. It’s a futile gesture. Bruce just grabs Tim around the waist and throws him up onto his shoulder like he’s a small child. Tim kicks his legs and beats on Bruce’s back and generally tries to get away, but gives up after only a few seconds. Bruce drops Tim back to the floor and Tim lands with a thud. He looks up at Bruce with a scowl.
“So, do you fuck with or should I say fuck all the Robins or am I just special?”
Bruce’s mouth turns up into a smirk but he doesn’t say anything. Tim kicks out at Bruce’s shin before kipping up to his feet.
“What was the fucking point of that? Was it yet another test? Did I forget my own birthday? What?” Tim barely pauses, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. “Well? Did I pass?”
Although it’s hard to tell with Bruce, Tim is sure that he’s considering saying something. Whatever it is, he apparently dismisses it because he turns back to the computer console without a word.
“Goddamn you,” Tim hisses. He continues to curse Bruce up and down until Bruce finally turns around.
“Enough.”
“What? Did I hurt your feelings? Oh, wait, I forget, you don’t have any of those.”
“Robin.”
“Bruce.”
“Tim.”
Bruce says it so softly and with so much reverence, like he should’ve said it when they were in bed together, that Tim snarls all over again and grabs Bruce’s head to pull him down for a heated kiss. He keeps kissing Bruce like that until Bruce finally gives in and kisses him back. When he does, Tim pulls back and slaps him.
“Answer my fucking questions.”
“You already know the answers.”
“No, I don’t-“
“Seventh Street, Tim.”
Tim sighs. Whether he knows them or not, Bruce isn’t going to reassure him with them. Chalking it all up to yet another twisted trust exercise, Tim turns and heads toward the Redbird.