(no subject)
Title: First Date
Author: kingburu
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Bart/Tim, Damian Wayne, Irey West, Jai West, hints of Damian/Irey
Warnings: none
Notes: Flash: Rebirth #1 - 6, Red Robin #20, Teen Titans #93; series of "firsts" while Bart and Tim become a couple.
Summary: Tim and Bart have their first date. Damian's there.
The fact that Tim was in Gotham an oddity itself.
The fact Red Robin was in Gotham wasn't unsightly; just rare.
The fact Red Robin was working with Batman and Robin civilly was an anomaly not even Tim was able to account for. He wasn't supposed to stay long; having gotten a new lead because of the Undernet. Dick managed to convince him to patrol the city before he left for San Francisco that night. Secretly despite telling Bruce about going with the Titans, he was going on a date. And, just as secretly, Tim knew Dick had been waiting thirty minutes now to ask who the date was, how long Tim would be gone, why was Steph learning Chinese, and was waiting to pull 'The Talk' out of his utility belt.
"Tt. Oh for fuck's sake-" Damian hissed when all three of them landed on the ledge just near the warehouse. A drug-trade was taking place. "Go on your date. Your presence is not needed, Drake."
"Robin, you'll give our position away. And don't swear, it stunts your growth." Dick used the Batman voice, but from where Tim was perched, the natural amusement of Nightwing always shined through. Amusingly enough with Dick's background in acrobatics and their bird puns, Dick was scooting closer to Tim like a crow on a telephone line. "Who is it? Tam? Steph? Lynx?"
Tim wished the cowl covered enough of the red on his cheeks. He held his binoculars close to his face. "It's-"
"Tim!"
"-classified." Or not, according to the pick-up of wind and recognizable red jacket from the corner of his eye. Dick-Batman held back one of his odd snickers, Damian scoffed, and Bart was tapping his foot.
Bart put both hands on his hips, mouth open, then it slackened. "Um."
"Bart, you're not in uniform."
"Oh! That first!" There was a hasty pop, the stretch of near-frictionless material, and Tim forced himself to ignore the three milliseconds of skin he was able to see before Kid Flash was standing in front of him, the lightning bolt on his chest blocking the lenses of Tim's binoculars. "Okay. We um, we have a problem. With our…um. You…you know."
"Date?" Tim ignored the fact the Great Batman was suddenly choking on his own spit while Robin looked at his gloved hands like he needed a manicure. Red stained his pale cheeks, but judging from Bart's own bashful flush, he didn't seem to notice.
"I-I uh." Bart shuffled between his feet.
"You can't make it." Tim ignored the disappointment tugging at his chest. He'd been the one who proposed it after Alfred's insistence, once he'd organized his schedule enough so Bart could spend at least an hour with him.
"No! Of course I can make it! On our first-er, y-you know."
"Date," Tim repeated. Bart's face matched the red of his gloves. Tim forced himself to pay attention to the crime scene, as it looked like Batman would keel over at any second. Robin had taken Batman's binoculars with a snort, and waved Tim off like he was a nuisance. He would have glared at his evil little stepbrother-and did, but Bart looked devastated, so Tim brought them to a secluded intersection against the rooftop.
Bart heaved a heavy sigh. "Y…yeah, that thing. It's…"
"Bart!" A tiny, feminine voice probably no older than the age of nine caught Tim's attention. A familiar white-and-red blur caught him off guard, but the next thing he knew the lithe body of his best friend and sort-of boyfriend was tackled to the ground with brute force. Bart squeaked upon impact and groaned in pain as he collided with the ground.
Batman turned around, evidently confused, and Red Robin held his hand up in gesture to ignore it. Dick didn't. "Irey?"
"Uncle Dick?" Irey straddled the mildly-incoherent Bart's stomach, prominent green eyes showing from Impulse's old goggles. She took resemblance from her father with smooth red hair and green eyes, but judging from her bluntness, Irey was beginning to develop some…impulsive tendencies.
This time Damian turned around, and Tim nearly laughed at his glower.
"Irey! Impulse-er. Gah." Bart stood up from his position on the ground, hands looping under Impulse's arms. Tim bit back a smile. "What are you doing here?"
"I…I followed you." Irey blinked behind Impulse's goggles, eyes suddenly as wide as Bart's had been when Bart had worn them. She fidgeted nervously and examined her handiwork. "You went fast, so I went fast too. Did I do okay?"
"You did fine. But since you're still learning about your speed, it's better that you learn to decelerate and accelerate rather than stopping in place. For now, so you don't run into things. You know; like a car." Bart looked like he wanted to be incredibly angry and was frustrated with the unknown circumstance, but about as angry as a brother could get to his baby sibling. Seeing his somewhat-boyfriend play the older brother card must have been the cutest thing Tim had ever seen.
"Okay." Irey beamed happily and hugged her cousin.
Bart lamented a sigh, hugging back tenderly before looking between all of them. His cheeks blushed dark red and all of a sudden he turned back into the clumsy little kid who startled Dick just five minutes ago. "I've got to babysit tonight, so we can't go out for our…you know."
"It's alright." Seeing Bart cuddle with his cousin like a big brother and a little sister almost filled his disappointment. "We can take a rain check until next month."
Bart's eyes widened, breaking from the exasperating character he had with Impulse in his arms, and he threw his hands in the air. "Raincheck? For a month? Are you crazy?"
"Why can't Wally take care of his own kids?" Dick broke away from his position on the ledge and they formed their little circle. Bart was hyperventilating from mental images.
"I dunno! Honeymoon? Reproduction? I'm in the middle of reading Mark Twain to Dox and Jai and Irey suddenly come in saying that I'm babysitting them! Tim!" Tim violently convulsed as Bart shook his shoulders. "You don't interrupt a man reading Mark Twain! That's like keeping Martian Manhunter from his Oreos!"
"Bart, we're trying to be covert."
"Oh, er. Sorry." Bart's cheeks glowed darker, and he hobbled back and forth between his boots before looking over to Irey and acting three years older. "Irey, Batman doesn't like metas around his city. Go back home with Jai and order pizza."
"But Batman's right here! And he's Uncle Dick!" Comically Irey latched onto Dick's leg with a cheerful smile. "Hi, Uncle Batman!"
Uncle Batman. Bruce would have gone ballistic. Dick looked mildly amused, but before he could get a word in, Damian intervened, violently plucking Irey off Dick's leg and glaring daggers at her. "Metas are not welcomed in Gotham. Leave, Allen."
"Oh, we will. Totally will. Irey, go order pizza!" Bart scratched messy locks of auburn brown hair, twisting hair between his fingers. In that split second he looked harmlessly peaceful before detrimentally explo-"A month, Tim? You won't be free again for another month?"
It was hard to ignore how guilty Tim felt, especially with devastated honey-gold eyes looking at him like Max Mercury had died all over again. "It…it was as free as I could get my schedule."
"Then-then." Bart raised his arms for dramatic effect, came to a dead halt, then sank in himself with defeat. "It's my fault then. I totally ruined our first…you know."
"Date. Bart. No-"
"Wait…you're…" Irey's tiny voice caught Tim's attention and evidently Bart's. "You're Robin, right?"
Oh, god. Damian scoffed, head held high and typical scowl spread across his face. "Tt. West. You are the daughter of the third-generation Flash, the second Impulse, and hope to run alongside your imbecile of a cousin when he takes the title of the fourth Flash and you, the mantle of Kid Flash."
Irey's eyes widened again, mystified. "You knew all of that?"
"No, you're just predictable."
"We should be friends!"
Déjà vu, almost. Tim bit back the eerie and awkward feeling in the pit of his stomach; the reminder of him as a 'grumpy bat' and the chirp little thing at his side that would give him hugs and play chess with. From the looks of it, the degree of how horribly this could go wrong was minimal…unless you took into account Damian's…devil-like nature. Irey was apparently eight and had all of Impulse's enthusiasm and innocence. Damian…was a bit more violent.
And not amused. He stood back, but comically only a head taller than Bart's cousin as he drawled, "I beg your pardon?"
"We should be friends…'cause Daddy's friends with Uncle Dick, and Bart's friends with Robin-the other Robin, and I'm Impulse and you're Robin." Irey smiled sweetly. "We're just like Bart and Red Robin!"
"She's a bit…" Bart pulled Tim's attention away from the scene at hand, patently embarrassed. Red swelled in his cheeks and he fiddled with the left wing on the side of his cowl.
Tim smirked. "Impulsive?"
"Well. Forthelackofabetterword. Yes." Bart glared, the scarlet fluster still teeming at his cheeks.
"I won't force you to find another babysitter." Somehow the thought of a Bart-influenced speedster running around with a normal nanny just sounded heartless. What he didn't expect was for Bart's gold-speckled eyes to droop, horribly crushed, and looking down to the ground in defeat. Shit. "Bart-"
"It's-I'm-I'm totally making a bigger deal about this…you know…than you are. Wow." Bart shuffled his feet. Double shit. "It shouldn't mean so much to me, should it?"
"Bart-I-no." Tim wouldn't have specifically been in Gotham at that very moment if he wasn't in preparation for this date. The evening just didn't seem fit if patrolling didn't cross with his agenda at least once that night.
"Why don't you take Damian with you?" Dick apparently found enough of his common sense to speak up.
Or not, because that suggestion had as much common sense as Rose suddenly saying 'please' and 'thank you.' Tim and Damian at the same time turned their heads in unison just as Impulse hobbled over to her cousin and tackled him into a delighted hug.
"You're kidding," Tim said wryly.
Dick grinned, looking oddly smug behind the Batman cowl. "Impulse and her brother are physically and psychologically about the same age as Damian. The Titans didn't work out because of the age gap."
"You are not pinning me off with two little nitwits," Damian seethed. "I refuse."
"I am not taking the devil with Bart and I on our first-" Tim faltered slightly, eyes darting to the side.
Bart smiled shyly. "Date?"
Tim, hopefully, did not turn that vibrant shade of flustered pink. "Date."
"Damian is surprisingly tame when it comes to handling children."
"I don't believe you."
"You are not goading me into going with Allen, West, and Drake," Damian scowled, completely deadpanned. As deadpanned as Tim could get his voice. He shivered. They were spending too much time together. "You…" Damian's demeanor dropped into a vehement sneer. "You have a date with Gordon!"
That explained a lot. Tim raised his head, eyes dulling behind opaque lenses. Batman sheepishly scratched his head. "Well, not particularly a date…We're not dating!"
"Lies!" This time Tim and Damian spoke together.
"If we take Damian…" Bart interrupted slowly. Slowly, which didn't seem like much, but for Bart it was extremely important. Kid Flash's fingers found their way on Tim's elbow and he smiled hopefully. "You and I can have our…that thing."
Tim frowned. "You want me to take my stepbrother on our date."
"I'm taking my two cousins," Bart said helpfully. "And they seem to like each other. Sort of."
Back in the world of little tykes, Irey was in the middle of a one-sided conversation with Damian; zipping around the devil child like Bart used to do. Damian stood still, positively annoyed and ready to trip her if he hadn't been learning formalities: Don't. Hit. Little. Girls. Especially the goddaughter of your mentor.
"I loathe you, Grayson." Damian gritted his teeth. "Loathe you horribly. Impulse. West. Desist."
"Okay." Obediently, unlike their generation as Young Justice, Impulse II stopped in front of Damian, angelic look gleaming in her eyes. Bart shared a calculative hum that was stolen from Tim himself, and Tim actually agreed. Maybe this would work.
"That's about as close to 'love' as I'll ever get, ain't it?" Batman clicked his tongue, stood high against the ledge, and pulled out his grappling gun. "Think of it as a learning experience, Robin. Besides, you two could learn a thing or two from Kid Flash and Impulse."
On cue, little Irey scurried back over to Bart and latched onto his hip. She sighed with content, cheek pressed against his neck. Bart looked troubled, pleading, and…
"Maybe it's better," Bart smiled. He kept a hand firm on Irey's thigh and leaned slight into Tim's form. "With the paparazzi and Vicki Vale and all and stuff. It's less stressful for you and it just so happens that I'm um, a cuddler. We could totally watch a movie. Fast-pace, of course. You always ruin mystery movies and suspense sucks."
Tim blinked. "You took my situation into consideration?"
"I always take you into consideration," Bart said broadly. Tim felt his cheeks warm while Irey giddily giggled.
Damian wasn't as embarrassed. "You are so whipped, Drake."
"Shut it, Damian."
"Well, Grayson?" Damian turned his head and sneered. "I refuse to be treated like-fuck."
"Dude, you shouldn't curse." Bart zipped around Robin, who was currently trying to find where Batman had disappeared to. He arched an eyebrow. "Totally stunts your growth."
Damian let out a strangled, bratty cry from the back of his throat and resolved to a defiant, pouty perch at the ledge. "I loathe Grayson."
Bart grinned and Impulse yipped. In the back of Tim's mind, he loathed Dick just a little bit, too.
--
Riding in Bart's arms outside of Titans work and catching criminals seemed to last longer than otherwise. When Bart started snuggle against his neck, Tim got the feeling Bart added the extra two minutes of travel just so they could cuddle. He had the horrid feeling Damian was going to ruin it all once they got there, anyway. They zipped into the house with no modesty to close the door, made the clumsy thud, thud, thud up the stairs, and Tim was promptly stripped-and-redressed in clothes he was sure he'd left at the Tower.
Bart, dressed back in his red hoodie and other clothes that seemed too big for him, shifted between his feet and bashfully glowed pink. "I got your clothes from the Tower."
"You went into my room," Tim said slowly. He wasn't mad. Bart was suddenly so spastic that he forgot to be mad, and was left at mildly amused.
"Your security system needs an upgrade," Bart said absentmindedly. That was an insult to Tim's part, but-"Omigod, not that it isn't great for catching other people, you know. But I-I can vibrate my molecules through it and stuff, and-wow. I'msosorryIdidn'tmeantohurtyourfeelings."
"I'm more concerned about hurting your feelings, Bart." Tim pressed a de-gloved hand to Bart's vibrating shoulder and smiled broadly. Before realizing what he'd just said, and blushing bright pink. "Erm."
Wide, honey-gold eyes stared at him with more-than-appropriate surprise and he was met with an armful of Bart with speedster lips at the corner of his lip. Bart let out a Bart-ish giggle and hugged him tighter. "You're totally the best sorta-boyfriend ever."
"You haven't chirpishly spazzed since we got here." Tim couldn't help the smile that curled at the corner of his lip.
"Mm." Bart vibrated in that familiar way at the tip of his toes with his cheek pressed at the crook of Tim's bare neck and flat stomach pressing against Tim's own. "Psychological practice. Mind over matter-only matter over mind."
"You read the book I bought you." They were inching dangerously close to the untidy guest bed in, Tim thought in disturbing contraceptive, Wally West's house while his two kids were downstairs. "Bart-"
"Twenty times in a minute. Then once, trying reality." Bart was a good head and a half shorter than him, and anyone ever looked into those eyes and thought nothing but innocence were horribly mistaken. "Still felt like ages. Tim, you smell like vanilla."
It was complete coincidence that Tim used Steph's Warm Vanilla Sugar hand lotion right before patrol. Honest.
Suddenly Bart looked as innocent as most people perceived him, honey eyes gleaming with specks of white and spots of gold as he backed up, smiling warmly but leaving Tim cold. "I'll make us dinner."
"You've got five mouths to feed." Tim crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. "Two of which have high metabolism."
"I-yeah…"
"You didn't refuse babysitting your cousin because Wally finally trusts you, right?" Tim's lips quirked slightly and he took a step forward as Bart hung his head, embarrassed. His fingers lightly scaled the bone of the shorter teen's jaw line, and he tugged Bart close to press a light kiss on his head. "I'm proud of you."
"Really?" Tim nodded. Bart clung to his neck and kissed his nose. "Best. Sorta-boyfriend. Ever. Can we make it official?"
What drew the line at sort-of boyfriend was the fact Tim had proposed a date last Sunday night just half an hour before he had to leave just in case Bart said no and he had an escape route. According to the rest of the team, if Bart didn't stop worrying over Tim's nonexistent wounds and Tim didn't stop touching Bart's shoulder, Conner and Cassie were going to lock them in a room until they brought the pair spastic, overly excited FlashRobin godchildren. Dick was going to get a kick out of the idea of a Speedster-Bat matrimony. Or faint. Wally…Tim wasn't too sure about Wally.
"Yeah," he smiled. "We can make it official."
Pink brushed along Bart's cheekbones and he wriggled, fingers lacing in the thick material of Tim's t-shirt. "Best. Boyfriend. Ever."
"So I've heard." Tim pushed wispy brown curls from Bart's forehead and-
Damian burst through the door. "I loathe you."
Tim did little to hide his irate scowl, looking to his disobedient stepbrother from the corner of his eye as Robin stomped through the room, sneering, and plopped square on the bed. Bart, surprisingly, pulled away once again and scrambled through a small walk-in closet before tossing a t-shirt and pants in Damian's direction.
Damian glared at the clothes.
"You didn't bring a spare," Tim speculated.
"It's either wear my clothes or Jai's. Snug or loose, Damian." Bart shrugged and ushered Tim out the room and grinned. "She do well?"
"She nearly crashed into a billboard sign with Drake's head on it," Damian spat. He sprayed the solvent and ripped off the mask, followed by unclasping the cape and other things Tim wasn't in the mood to deal with. Robin was stripping on Bart's bed. "Put her on a leash!"
"He'll get over it," Tim said solidly to how Bart's expression suspiciously slackened. He stared Bart straight in the eye, forcibly shutting the door and tugging them toward the stairs.
Bart shrugged. "He doesn't seem to like me much."
"Why would it matter if he liked you?"
"Well, if we're boyfriends then I totally need to be on good terms with your family so that if we ever get married and have kids and stuff there won't be any hate. Grandma Iris and Linda and Joan'll like you. They gave me advice." Bart grinned. "Jay and Max'll understand, and Barry's all cooped up so he probably doesn't realize I'm gay and I broke Wally's brain, but don't worry. He'll be fine."
Tim was stuck on, 'if we ever get married and have kids,' but decided to save that thought for later. "You broke Wally's brain?"
"Called your name out in the heat of-oh, you're not supposed to know that." Bart turned pink, smiled nervously, and sped downstairs as a yellow blur. He came back up just as Tim took his first step and held out a hand. Tim took it, amused. "Irey thinks we're married."
They skid down the stairs at a surprisingly slow pace for Bart and made it into the small kitchen where the ingredients for lasagna were displayed over the table. Wally trusts Bart to cook.
"Lost the list of instructions. Read it before running over to get you," Bart explained. He absentmindedly tapped his chin and Tim helpfully preheated the oven. That was all he was able to do before Bart began a whirlwind of chores and held a premade lasagna in his hands with a grin. "Pretty sure it said to make lasagna, give Irey and Jai a bath, read Irey a bedtime story, play videogames with Jai specifically for forty-two minutes, begin teaching Irey how to vibrate her hands through a wall, and then put them to sleep. All written in pen. You know, the Paper Mate kind."
"What kind of paper?" Tim mused.
"What am I?" Bart looked at him like he was crazy with those bugged out, fake-wry golden-yellow eyes before grabbing a broom. "A scientist? Like I could tell what kind of paper it was. College-ruled, I think. Or maybe printer paper, or-"
"Bart," Tim laughed, pulled the broom from Bart's hand, and swept the heap of flour that littered the ground. "You're making a mess."
"I'm-sorry," Bart said lamely. He hobbled toward the sink like a little kid-no, responsible teenager, pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie, then proceeded with wiping off excess flour on the table. "I just want to make sure we're doing this right. Our. You know."
"Date." Biting back a chuckle, Tim scooped flour in a tray and dumped it in the trashcan. Bart followed in suit with a small giggle. "What?"
"You've got flour in your hair." Bart grinned mischievously, pressing up against Tim's form before tangling fingers through mussy black hair. "Mm, vanilla, Tim."
Had Tim known Bart's 'liking' vanilla was at this level he would have tried it months ago. On cue, the oven beeped, signaling it was done preheating. Bart was gone for two seconds at most, flurrying around the kitchen in a neater trail before Tim heard the oven promptly snap shut, lasagna gleaming tastefully under the oven light.
"Don't double the oven temperature just to cut time in half for it to bake," Tim warned. "The Wests won't be happy if their kitchen is covered in tomato sauce."
"Party pooper," Bart sang, fingers hastily dialing into the digital kitchen timer before returning to Tim's side, pleasantly latching onto Tim's arm. Said tomato sauce now had a firm splotch on Bart's left cheek.
Tim smirked, reaching over to the roll of paper towels when-another speedster, red-haired and green-eyed in all her glory, yanked at his other arm with a bright smile. Tim blinked. "Uh. Hi."
"Irey, go take a bath." Bart put his hands on his hips. Like a mother.
"My secret identity is Iris West!" Irey chirped. She pulled Tim with little difficulty down to her height, green eyes wide and pigtails waving in the wind. She whispered, "I'm really Impulse. You can call me Irey, if you want, like Bart and Daddy do."
"Tim," he smiled awkwardly. She was without a doubt exactly what Bart was like so many years ago.
Bart apparently didn't see the resemblance. "Irey! Bath time."
It was then Damian deemed it the right moment to silently begin his descent down the stairs and saunter into the kitchen, Bart's oversized hood covering his head and dark blue eyes dimmed with irritation an anger. He stopped, reading the scene in his own merry way (Tim rolled his eyes) and smirked. Damian smirking was never a good thing.
Irey yanked happily at Tim's hand. "Can we play chess?"
Bart sighed loudly and waved a guilty Tim off into the living room before returning to clean the rest of the kitchen. Tim took the offer in stride, guilty, and was carefully placed on the couch with Irey by his side and a chess board and pieces. He smiled. She wasn't as fast as Bart-nowhere near that speed, but that was probably a good thing.
"How do I get Robin to like me?" Irey whispered eagerly after Damian left into the kitchen.
"You don't," Tim said, mildly stripped of his youth. If Tim knew how to get Damian to like him, he would have done it ages ago. From the corner of his eye, he watched his stupid stepbrother stop Bart from his ongoings, hand too comfortably on Bart's wrist, and a smirk that wasn't well-hidden behind a smile.
"Allen, there is tomato sauce on your cheek."
Bart blinked, forcibly lowered to Damian's height. "There is? Oh-"
That little brat licked it. Tim readily stood from the couch-or, would have if Irey hadn't found solace in his lap, and bit back his scowl. Damian, the little jerk he was, licked the last bits of tomato sauce between his lips and left a red wet spot on Bart's face.
"Er. Okay." Bart scratched his head. "Lack of nurture as a child. Nature vs. Nurture. Was totally in the San Francisco Library, I can deal with that. Hug?"
"Oh, most certainly."
Tim wasn't sure who would die first, but he was going to kill both Dick and Damian.
--
It took him an hour, at most, but Tim gathered substantial evidence Damian was trying to make his first date with Bart absolute hell. Any blind man could see it. Bart was weirded out but seemed set on 'impressing the Batfamily,' and any torturous moment Damian could tear Bart's attention away from anyone but himself, he took. Did Damian like Bart? Oh, god no. Tim would have easily bet Wayne Industries that the kid had gotten that good at his acting skills specifically for undercover missions. While not a favorite of Damian's, no doubt, the devil child wouldn't brush off a skill all Robins learned at least once in their life.
Dick would have gone into hysterics watching Damian help Bart wash dishes. Nudge his shoulder with Bart in false affection, rearrange the hair Tim previously ruffled, and even going as far as sitting in Bart's lap. Clearly if Damian wasn't going home anytime soon, he was going to have as much fun he could pissing Tim off.
It seemed awfully well-rehearsed as well. Every time Tim got a free opportunity to at least talk to Bart before Damian could goad the teen into something new ("Play ping-pong with me, Allen. I want a challenge." "Allen, what are your views on homicide?" "How do you feel about forensic science?") Irey would yank at his arm and ask to play for a new game. Bart looked desperate to escape, but the last and latest thought fired Bart up to talk about what he'd learned at the Los Angeles Police Academy.
Damian was a talented kid. Tim could swallow his pride to admit under Dick's training, Damian made a good Robin. He had never been, however, a team player. Dick sent Damian with the Titans so that he could learn about camaraderie and chivalry, and Damian showed him better by shunning each and every one of Tim's teammates. So whenever Irey wanted to play something new, Tim caught her looking over to Damian for approval for continuing her forethought and dragging Tim off to play with puzzles and Barbie dolls. Damian had turned Irey into his own little minion.
Potential, Tim would have begrudgingly admitted, if his ten-year-old stepbrother wasn't currently trying to get him to crack.
It was around eight when Bart dragged Irey upstairs for a quick bath when Jai West meandered downstairs with a PSP in hand. Damian took possession of the couch, iPod plugged in his ears and hood over his head. Tim picked out a book, glaring at the smirking little brat, and pitied Bart enough to leave him alone.
If Tim went upstairs, he had a feeling Damian would follow in suit and-if Damian actually asked to take a bath with Bart, Tim was going to make Damian die a slow and painful death because Bart would only be a little hesitant before agreeing. Bart was a bashful boyfriend, but around teammates he wasn't particularly modest.
Jai hopped the last few stairs, took one look at the preoccupied Tim, then went into the kitchen to grab whatever leftovers of lasagna was on the table. Bart had called him once the lasagna was done, but after a cry of, 'I'm a hundred-and-fifty ninjas away from beating level sixty! I'll eat it later, promise!' Bart wholeheartedly allowed him to finish his videogame.
Jai and Irey shared the same nose, but that was it. His hair was as dark from whom Tim assumed was Mrs. West, eyes slanted, and a petite stature compared to the muscles Damian had. Bart mentioned Jai's lifelong goal was to beat every videogame out there and that he had no interest in the superheroing business whatsoever.
Two minutes later, a squeaky clean Irey was bouncing down the stairs in fluffy pink PJs and left a sopping wet Bart at the top. He stared at Tim, mildly disgruntled, zipped away, and suddenly zipped back in a clean pair of clothes.
Irey directly sped over to Damian with no means for personal space and sat happily next to him. "Whatcha listening to?"
Damian grunted. "Move."
She obliged, perfectly content with the order.
Bart moaned before collapsing above Tim's place on the armchair. "She just asked my permission to ask you permission to start up Young Justice again."
"She knows about Young Justice?"
"What other bedtime stories am I supposed to tell the girl who's excited about being the second Impulse?" Bart tossed his gangly arms in the air before flipping over and landing in Tim's arms. He snuggled tightly against Tim's chest. "Cuddle."
"You're awfully demanding."
"I'm awfully cute. Now cuddle with me."
Tim smirked lightly, pushing curly hair out of Bart's eyes before the younger teen latched onto his waist, face buried in Tim's stomach. Looking up he found Irey's eyes, her frown, and Damian's look of indifference as he played Angry Birds on his iPod. How ironic.
Jai took that moment to come out of the kitchen with a slice of chocolate cake and plopped at the end of the couch next to Irey and Damian. Irey scurried over to her brother and whispered hastily in his ear.
"Not now, Irey, I'm busy." Jai swatted her away.
"Hey." Bart caught Tim's face between his hands, pout curled against his lips and eyes gleaming. "You're here with me. We're supposed to be cuddling."
"Cuddling noted," Tim teased. The little comment earned one of Bart's large and happy smiles before Irey slid off the couch and waddled over to her cousin.
"You promised you'd teach me how to vibrate my hands!" she chirped happily.
Bart wiggled satisfyingly in Tim's lap. "But I'm content. And you used to be intangible!"
She, disturbingly enough despite the fact they weren't even blood related, had Bart's puppy dog pout down to the very last speck in her eye.
Again, Bart sighed at his own little tragedy before climbing off Tim's lap and leaving it cold, then picked a satisfied Irey off the ground. He gave Tim the most apologetic, guilty look Tim had ever seen. Tim smiled back reassuringly. Their date hadn't gone as planned, but at least they were on a date. And the Titans hadn't suddenly burst through the doors spying on them, either.
"Ten minutes," Bart promised. "And then Jai and Irey have to go to bed and I can drop Damian off and we can go off to the Tower and finish off our date."
"Sure." Tim nodded, amused, before Bart and his cousin disappeared out the room and into the backyard. He turned his head to the preoccupied Damian and Jai, then sharpened his gaze. Damian smirked under his hood.
"Whipped," he drawled.
"You're awfully buddy-buddy with her," Tim said accusingly. "Batman'll have a field day with this one."
"Oh, let him," Damian snorted. He offered a short, condescending laugh that normally ended with Tim's fist to Damian's face, then collected his things. "I've just achieved obedience with my Impulse; a problem that took you years to master. I am clearly the better Robin."
Tim smirked. "She's got a crush on you." And Dick would have a field day with that one.
Damian looked horrified. Probably at the thought of mixing his bloodline with a speedster's. "She-most certainly-does not."
"Robin!" Irey zipped back in her Impulse uniform and tackled Damian in a very Bart-ish hug. She grinned. "Will you watch me vibrate? Please?"
Damian scowled. "Absolutely not."
"Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"
"Alright-" Damian had no other say as Irey, a little girl half his size, scooped him from the ground with a happy cheer and proceeded running out the backyard door to meet up with wherever Tim's boyfriend currently was.
For the first time, Jai looked up from his PSP as Tim tried hard to bite back a laugh, looked at Tim, the door, and snorted. "He's so whipped."
"I should be more worried," Tim confessed with a hardly-hidden grin. But the truth was Damian knew Dick would be terribly upset with him if Irey was suddenly dead. The little brat worshiped the ground Bruce walked on, but he clearly lived to impress Dick in every possible way.
"She'll drive him crazy." A kaboom! could be heard from the game console. "Look at it this way: she's off my back and your back and Bart's back if she pesters him."
That was an entertaining thought. "Noted."
"Robin tricked her into thinking if you two were together, Bart would have less time for us." Jai pressed paused on his videogame and stared at Tim up and down like any normal eight-year-old. "I don't think he likes you being away so often, either."
Tim blinked. Damian getting jealous and overprotective for his sake. Because Damian was jealous of Bart. Either Jai was more observant than he let on or it was the most ridiculous theory known to mankind. Tim decided to go with the latter.
"And you?" He asked.
Jai stared at him thoughtfully. "Tell you what," he grinned cheekily, waving the PSP in the air as a challenge, "you beat me at Mario Kart and you can marry Bartfor all I care."
Tim laughed. "You're on."
--
Damian looked mildly disgruntled and horribly disturbed when they came back. Irey was innocent and once they made it through the door, it took all of Bart's self-control to keep from laughing. Tim looked from the Wii in curiosity just as Jai smashed his kart and Damian proceeded with a rough kick to Tim's leg.
"I want to leave. Now." Damian's cheeks were dark red. Tim decided not to ask. "Where is my tunic?"
"I'll run him to Gotham," Bart grinned. He zipped upstairs, then returned, strip-and-redressing Damian in the same fashion he'd done with Tim. "Put 'em to bed for me?"
"Are you mad at me?" Impulse stared at Robin, devastated.
"He's not mad," Tim assured. He pulled Irey on his waist, curtly nodded as Bart hoisted Damian in the air, and left. Smirking, he added, "He's just emotionally unintelligent."
"Unintelligent," Irey repeated. She beamed. "I'm smarter than Robin?"
"You're certainly friendlier." Tim looked over to Jai. "C'mon. Bed."
"Will you teach me that cheat code first?" Jai matched one of Bart's eager grins with ease. It was the first time Tim had seen him act with such enthusiasm. Clearly he got the approval from at least one person in the Flash family.
"Maybe next time," Tim promised. He guided both little kids upstairs and set each one in their opposing bed. Irey changed out of her Impulse uniform and was now snuggled under a fluffy duvet with a teddy bear dressed as Kid Flash.
She looked at him with big, sullen eyes. "You'll take good care of Bart, right? Pinky promise?"
"Pinky promise." Tim hesitated, then awkwardly kissed her on the forehead. The action earned him another delighted smile, so hopefully that meant he got approval from Impulse, too. Turning his head, Jai was already asleep, snuggled up against a wiimote and Nintendo DS in the other corner. Tim wondered how often Bart tucked his cousins in when they were asleep.
He shut the door behind him and hurried back to the living room. Bart was there to meet him before the yellow blur flew up the stairs, into the twins' room, and a minute later he returned.
"Thanks," Bart chirped. He smiled softly and kissed Tim on the cheek. "They don't take well to new people so easily. Linda's planning on homeschooling them until next school year."
Tim wrapped his arms around Bart as they took the course toward the Tower. "What happened with Damian?"
Bart sniggered. He outright laughed to the point he even snorted. "Let's just say, until Irey learns to vibrate fast enough while holding Damian so he doesn't feel it, he's not getting a lift from her anytime soon. No more crashed dates and touchy-feely Damian."
Oh. Oh. Tim laughed. "Bart?"
"Yeah?"
"You're the best boyfriend ever."
Bart kissed him.