Flash of Thought

-

Without moving his mouth, Tim hisses at his brothers, “Touch me and I rip it off.” He sends a meaningful glance downwards before pushing himself into the crowd.

It wasn’t his choice to dress up for the Halloween party. Nor was it his choice to dress as Lady Loki. Tim catches Steph’s eye and mouths you suck. She makes a lewd gesture before mouthing back not as hard as you do.

Tim makes a face as she wiggles her eyebrows and twirls her hammer suggestively. He doesn’t know how she managed to claim Thor for herself. He doesn’t want to know how.

He just wishes they would’ve let him be Coulson. But no.

Apparently they needed him to be the Lady Loki.

Tim is this close to punching Captain America (Dick) and the Hulk (Jason) in the god damned throat.

He could’ve been Iron Man.

But no.

It had to be Loki. Lady Loki. (What even.)

Cass, as Black Widow, is poking Damian’s cheek (Hawkeye) with one of his own arrows.

His siblings are all insane.

Cass catches his gaze before looking meaningfully over his shoulder. Tim follows her line of sight, glares at Dick and Jason who are attempting to make their way through the crowd to him, and goes off to find Alfred. Who is dressed as Odin.

He’d like to see them try and get into his sort-of-pants around Alfred.

In fact he challenges them to do so.

D:

AVA

AVA

AVA

WHEN YOU COME BACK FIX IT? PLEASE?

Oooooooooooooh, kudos to you for remembering that verse * 3*

-

-

Tim whispers into Bruce’s ear, “Do you dream about me?”

Bruce shivers, hands resting low on Tim’s hips. “Every waking moment. I live your dreams.”

“Batman.” Tim laughs, skin against skin- electric. “I missed you. You were always my favorite.”

“Customer?”

Tim’s lips ghost against Bruce’s skin, hinting- teasing- suggesting, a dream. Bruce’s own, private, personal dream. His legs are smooth, sliding sensations as he slips his slender limbs around Bruce’s torso, pressing.

His nails drag over Bruce’s shoulders, Bruce smothers a gasp because it just taunts. Tim’s lips part into a smile of white and he can almost picture the room where they first met. Tim shakes his head, amusement in his dark, dark eyes-

“Dreamer.”

-

Tim’s eyes flutter as Jason carefully, gently, tenderly removes the make-up from his face. It feels good, it feels refreshing. Like he’s sliding out of a skin that’s too tight (and when he puts it on, it feels just the same. Tim is a never-ending series of skins being shed over and over again).

He almost smiles, and the feel of Jason’s eyes on his face- closely observing, close, so close and on Tim, Tim alone-

It’s almost arousing.

(Because this seems far too intimate to be lustful. It’s- it’s more. More than Tim ever dreamed.)

In the transformation between the one skin and the other, Jason mixes himself in. Mixes himself into the shades of red Tim uses, the sweep of the make-up brush. Tim opens his eyes, opens them to beautiful blue-green and smiles.

Jason smiles back, and his hands are safe on Tim’s face.

Jason’s hands are safe.

Tim raises his own hands, and traces the outline of a domino around Jason’s eyes.

(Neither of them say it- but they both know the secret, the secret isn’t a secret anymore, not really.)

Tim isn’t sure if Jason knows this- but his hands are safe. For all the scars, the callouses, the burns that are on them- they make Tim feel safe. Like they’re children again.

Even if Jason doesn’t believe- Tim does.

Jason’s eyes and hands on him- it’s almost arousing.

But Tim falls in love with how safe it is, instead.

-

“His name is Robin.” Penguin says, seated among old and young alike in the Iceberg lounge.

Several of the old smile, nod their heads, take sips of their drinks. All of the new- the young, mumble- “Isn’t he just a legend?”

The Riddler laughs. It’s a collection of old familiar faces- come out of hiding and retirement-

Even Poison Ivy is here, limbs creaking- leaning on Killer Croc and Scarecrow to stay upright on her own. She whispers- voice rough but dreamy- “The sun has risen again.”

“What does he even do?”

“Everything that Batman can’t- won’t.” Scarecrow supplies. “Robin is…flexible and forgiving in ways that Batman can’t be. That being said- run.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“And children can be cruel.” Scarecrow answers, long fingers folding. “So very, very cruel. And this Robin was always…what’s the word?”

“Special.” The Riddler supplies. “This Robin is…special.”

“His name is Robin.” The Joker says, far, far back in the shadows. Voice low and cracking. “His name is Robin. And that’s all that ever mattered to us. He’s Robin. And now he’s back.” He raises his glass. Laughs, knocks the shot back. “I feel so alive again!”

His name is Robin, that is a given. His name is Robin- and he’s the brightest spot in the city. If you don’t get blinded.

The old watches the new leave- troop out, not believe a word they say about Robin. They shake their heads at these new villains, these new kids. They don’t understand- but they will.

They think they know all the rules- all the tricks and all the things they need to know about Gotham and how to play her game.

Robin is back.

It’s an entirely different game.

But seriously darling, you always have my attention.

(and it’s my reaction to finding you in my bed ovo)

EEEEEEEEEEEEE YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Yay yay yay!

Ava waifu <3333333333333333333

*jumps up and down*

<3333333333333333