Chapter Text
Tim matched Stephanie’s pace as she hung off his arm, head lolling against his shoulder. They just left their fourth and final bar—tipsy, giddy, and exhausted—and were ready to call it a night.
Wind whipped through Gotham’s downtown, making Tim pull his coat tighter around him. He wished he’d dressed for the weather instead of the night’s activities, and was counting down the minutes until they were back at the Nest. A cup of coffee would warm him up in no time, and maybe help shake off some of the tingling in his limbs.
“We should do this every night,” Stephanie sighed into Tim’s shoulder, words slurring, and he snickered.
“Yeah, ‘cause B would totally let us swing from building to building like this,” Tim joked, catching Stephanie as she stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. He glanced towards the rooftops, almost expecting to see Batman watching from above, making sure Tim’s night off with Stephanie didn’t end in a mugging or back alley brawl. He couldn’t tell if the gargoyle above actually moved or if his vision was still swimming thanks to all the drinks settling into his system.
Maybe it was both. Maybe it was neither.
God, his brain felt like soup.
“I don’t need his permission,” Stephanie scoffed. “I can swing wherever I want, whenever I want. With whoever I want.”
Tim laughed, pulling her in tighter as another gust made them both shiver.
“You can barely walk a straight line right now.”
“You can barely walk a straight line,” she shot back, tongue out and making Tim snort.
God, she was such a child sometimes. And Tim loved it.
“Seriously, though,” Stephanie said after a few steps in silence. “This was fun. You are fun, Tim. I love you. You know that, right? I love you so, so much. And I just want you to be happy, ya know?”
Tim swallowed, trying to choke down the small lump forming in his throat. The one he poured drink after drink past in an attempt to keep it from rearing its ugly head.
“I know. And I love you, too,” he said quietly, appreciating the comment more than Stephanie would ever know.
Fun.
Tim was fun. So fun.
But Kon was always fun-er.
Fuck.
It’d been weeks since their breakup. Practically a month. He should be over it by now, right? It wasn’t like they were serious or anything. And, like, they’d broken up before—were on and off more times than Tim wanted to admit.
But this time felt more final than the others, and came with the realization that they were probably better off as friends. Not even friends with benefits—because they’d tried that a few times, too. And that? That got messy quickly, what with Tim’s tendency to overthink.
So back to friends it was. No bad blood, no shouting matches. Just a simple conversation. A step backwards.
And Tim? Tim was fine with that.
Or he should’ve been.
But he wasn’t.
So he’d thrown himself into work. Into figuring out what the fuck Scarecrow was planning this time. Into rereading old reports and ensuring they were all filed and tagged correctly.
Into staring up into the Batcomputer’s screen whenever he wasn’t locked in his office at Wayne Enterprises.
The others noticed, of course, but Stephanie was the only one to truly call him out on it. To try to pry Tim away from it all. Her persistence was admirable, annoying as it was. But eventually she wore him down and got him to agree to a night out. To meet her at a local bar wearing his sluttiest outfit—a designer tee and bomber jacket he was now extremely thankful he grabbed.
Tim didn’t want to admit how nice their time out had been. How his brain shut down the moment they migrated to the second bar.
How good it felt to just be off and pretend he was a normal twenty-one year old. Well, as normal as he could be.
A yank pulled Tim out of his head, back to the present where Stephanie was tugging out of his grasp with a little gasp, taking her warmth with her.
Tim’s mind came back online just as Stephanie stumbled into the street, entranced by the pink glow of a neon sign across the way.
Fuck.
“Steph,” Tim called, following on unsteady feet. “Steph—“
“Look,” she cut him off, tripping over the curb and slamming into the window where the neon announced the still open tattoo parlor within.
The look Stephanie gave Tim made him wish that he were more sober to handle the situation.
“No—“
“Yes,” she cut him off, smile indicating how much her mind was already made up. “This nose is getting pierced.”
“Steph—“ he started but she was already pushing into the parlor, door swinging shut behind her.
Fuck.
A second later Tim was pushing the door in after her, rubbing his eyes as they adjusted to the brighter light.
The parlor was small, more of a hole in the wall than anything. Dark walls were littered with various pictures of body art while glass-covered displays showcased fancy studs and hoops. All of it was bathed in the pink glow bleeding from the neon sign in the window while classic rock drowned out the buzz of a needle he couldn’t see.
Tim located Stephanie easily, leaning over one of the display cases with palms pressed against the glass. A second later he was next to her, trying to coax her back out into the night.
She swatted his hands away with ease, instead opting to grab ahold of his arm and pull him in just as she jabbed a finger towards a septum piercing the size of an actual door-knocker.
“Tim, what if I—“
“No,” he blurted out. “Absolutely not.”
“But—“
“No fucking way.” He couldn’t stop from laughing at the thought of Spoiler getting bodied by Man-Bat, who would absolutely use the massive nose ring as a handle to quite literally swing her around and around.
Stephanie made an annoyed sound but laughed along with him, pointing out other ideas that only made him laugh harder. Chains and charms and god Stephanie was crazy.
The longer they stayed, the more she’d chip away at Tim’s resolve. Eventually she’d point to something and Tim, in his buzzed state, wouldn’t be able to disagree.
He had to get them out of there. Now.
Muttering pleas between huffs of laughter, Tim started to drag Stephanie away from the cases and towards the door.
One second he had his hand wrapped around her wrist and the next she was expertly sweeping out of his hold, jamming him back with a shoulder.
He wheezed as he tumbled backwards, unable to get his feet under him until—
Until he was ramming into a body he didn’t realize was there.
Fuck.
Tim spun around, an apology already on his lips, but it dissipated the second he laid eyes on the man he’d unknowingly staggered into.
Tall. Not quite as tall as Jason, with black hair swept out of his face. His bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners, lips turned up into an entertained smile. Likely Tim’s age, if not a year or two off.
Double fuck.
“I-I—” Tim stuttered, struggling to find his voice amidst the loop of ‘oh no he’s hot’ playing in the back of his mind. “Shit, I’m sorry. So, so sorry. I—“
“It’s all good,” Blue Eyes cut him off, laughter punching his words and oh god his voice.
Tim was not sober enough to be interacting with anyone right now, let alone the attractive beanpole standing in front of him.
“Sorry,” he squeezed out again, unable to think of anything else to say as he continued to catalog the man in front of him. His ears were freshly pierced—black matte stars poked through his lobes while a little stud and loop combo lived in his upper shell—and damn if they didn’t catch the light in a way that made Tim’s stomach flutter. “I mean—sorry.”
If Blue Eyes noticed Tim absolutely staring, he didn’t let on. Instead he laughed harder, wiping at one of his eyes like Tim had just told the funniest joke of all time.
He kinda wished he had.
“I think you already said that a few times,” Blue Eyes said, eyes sparking. “But I can keep count if you want to keep going.”
Tim gaped at him, unsure what to do for a few seconds before he managed to collect himself, fist to his lips as he cleared his throat.
“I’d rather you didn’t keep an ongoing tally of just how badly I’m embarrassing myself.”
“I mean, I don’t think you’re doing too badly.“
Tim blinked. “That’s high praise considering I’d love nothing more than to melt through the floor right now.”
Blue Eyes snorted.
“There’s nothing exciting beneath these floorboards. Believe me, I’ve checked.” His eyes flashed as he joked, and Tim’s stomach flipped.
“You sure?” Tim shot back, trying to match Blue Eyes’ energy. “No bodies buried beneath?”
“Oh, the only dead thing around here is me.”
Tim couldn’t help but laugh at that, and was delighted when Blue Eyes laughed along. Head tipped back, metal in his ears glinting. And for a second, Tim was entranced. Stuck watching this stranger, assessing the curve of his throat and the width of his shoulders and the strain of his arms beneath his Gotham U quarter sleeve tee and—
“You seem pretty alive to me,” Tim breathed.
“Maybe on the outside.”
“Ah, so it’s a dead on the inside situation?”
Blue Eyes pointed at Tim, laughing a peppy ‘you have no idea’. And as he dropped his hand Tim caught the flash of reddened skin and fresh ink. Again, he couldn’t help but note the little crown on his middle finger, and filed it away along with the pierced ears and infectious smile and incredible laughter and—
Yeah, there was no way Tim was sober enough to function like a fucking regular person right now.
“I’m Danny, by the way.” Blue Eyes—Danny—stuck out his other hand for Tim to shake.
Tim accepted it, not thinking too much about how cool Danny’s hand was. No, he was much more focused on the smile he was giving him, teeth pearling in the pink light.
“Tim,” he heard himself say, letting Danny’s hand go after maybe a second too long. God, why was he so embarrassing?
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Tim said.
“So, what brings you into this great establishment at—“ Danny mimed glancing down at a watch that didn’t exist on his wrist, “—nearly two in the morning?”
Tim blinked.
Right.
He completely forgot about Stephanie, who was currently still cooing over piercings beneath the glass. Except now a dude with full tat-sleeves was standing next to her, nodding along to her ramblings.
Fuck.
Tim should do something about that. Probably.
...in a minute.
“My... sister,” Tim said, turning back to Danny. “She saw the sign in the window.”
“So did I,” Danny beamed. “I must’ve passed by this place a hundred times. But this time I thought ‘why not’, you know?”
“Do you live close by?” Tim asked and immediately wanted to smack his head against a wall when Danny’s expression changed.
“Close enough, if that’s what you’re asking.” Danny’s eyebrows wiggled and Tim nearly died right then and there.
“Oh—no—I—“ he stuttered, heat creeping higher up his cheeks.
Danny laughed. Head thrown back, hand sweeping through his dark hair, and for a second Tim was staring again. At the way his jaw looked with his head at that tilt. Eyes closed and mouth parted and—
Tim needed to get a fucking hold of himself, and knowing that Danny lived nearby was not helping.
“Sorry,” Danny said after a few more seconds of laughter. “I have trouble resisting a good setup. And that was too perfect to pass up.”
“It’s fine.” Tim smudged his hand into his eyes, desperately trying to will his face to be less red.
“But yeah, I actually don’t live too far from here,” Danny admitted, leaning against the nearby counter. Tim’s gaze flicked down to how his arms folded across his chest and how his hips settled as he shifted his weight onto one foot and—
What were they talking about again?
Danny living close by. To the parlor they were standing in. Right now.
God, Tim needed to snap the fuck out of it.
He motioned to Danny’s shirt, trying to root himself back in the moment. To keep the conversation flowing.
“You go to Gotham U?” They weren’t too far from the campus, after all.
Danny glanced down at his shirt for a second before nodding.
“Yeah. Do you?”
“No.” Tim shook his head. “But I like to think that I would’ve. Are you graduating soon?”
“In two years,” he said, sliding one of his hands into his pockets. The one that wasn’t red with fresh art. “I’m in a five year program.”
So he was Tim’s age. He didn’t know what to do with that information. Yet.
“Which program?”
“One of the science ones.”
“Oh, so you’re smart.”
Danny smirked. “I have my moments.”
Before Tim could reply, Stephanie was latching onto his arm, pulling at him excitedly.
“Tim, Tim, you have to see…” she trailed off as she noticed the hot boi leaning nearby. Her jaw fell open. “Oh. My god.”
Stephanie abandoned Tim, launching forward to snatch Danny by the chin before he could react.
“Oh my god, your ears,” she gasped, tilting his head back and forth for half a second before Tim could grab ahold of her, reeling her back.
“Steph!” he gasped, absolutely mortified. “Fuck, can you just—”
“Tim,” Stephanie whined, stretching out his name as she actually fucking pointed towards Danny’s new piercings. “Tim, his ears.”
“I see them,” he said. Heat shot back up his neck as he glanced over at Danny whose shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.
“They’re so pretty,” Stephanie trilled, eyes sliding back onto Tim. Her brow then furrowed, hands cupping his face and tipping his head from side to side. “Yours are so… naked. You have naked ears, Tim.”
“For fucking… Steph!” Tim gritted his teeth, pushing her hands away and looking over at Danny, who could no longer hold his laughter back, even with a hand clamped over his mouth.
Red. Tim’s face was definitely red.
“I’m so sorry,” he sputtered over Stephanie’s continued gripes.
“She’s right, though.” Danny motioned to his ears. “Mine are prettier than yours.”
“Oh my god, I love you,” Stephanie gaped, and if that didn’t make Tim even redder. “Tim. Tim, I love him.”
“Again, sorry. So, so sorry.” Tim pulled Stephanie back even further out of Danny’s personal space.
“That’s your seventh apology, you know,” Danny said with a laugh. “Three more and I feel like I should get a free froyo or something.”
Stephanie wheezed, knocking into Tim as his brain short circuited.
Danny was doing it. He was actually keeping a tally.
Tim thought he was kidding.
Oh fuck, he was in trouble.
“You know what, knock yourself out,” Tim said, digging his wallet out of his pocket and clumsily smushing it into Stephanie’s hands. “Pierce whatever you want. It’s on me.”
Stephanie let out a quiet ‘yes’ and scurried back to the display case, leaving Tim alone.
With Danny.
Whose eyes were bright and blue and locked on him.
Fuck.
What was Tim supposed to do? He needed to say something, didn’t he? To keep the conversation rolling or flowing or—
“So, is there a story behind the crown?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could think of anything better to say. Anything better to ask.
Danny’s expression faltered, eyes widening for a second before he glanced down at his left hand. At the red-puckered skin around his new tattoo.
“Oh,” he breathed, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “Yeah.”
“Is it a good one?”
Danny’s smile widened, and if Tim were more sober he might’ve noticed the danger lurking beneath the expression. But instead his mind was overheating, too focused on the flash of skin by Danny’s waist as he leaned over the counter, plucking a pen and sticky note from the desk.
“How about I tell you all about it over drinks sometime,” he said, scribbling something onto the sticky and handing it to Tim with a wink.
Tim was speechless. Actually speechless. Mouth fully hanging open as Danny shot him one last mischievous smile before turning to leave.
The bell chimed as the door swung shut behind him, snapping Tim out of his stupor. And then he was staring down into the note stuck to his fingers.
A number.
Danny gave Tim his number. Scrawled it out next to a messy doodle of the same crown freshly tattooed on his finger.
And Tim?
Tim smiled. Wide and goofy and excited.
Because, apparently, there were some good things that happened after two in the morning.
And Tim seriously hoped to god that Danny was one of them.