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Tim carried pregnancy well.

That was one thought that had been on repeat in Dick’s head. Like a broken stereo that couldn’t help but keep skipping and repeating the same tune until it drove you a little bit crazy.

He’d been bright. His cheeks had gained a rougey constant flush, in the beginning, Dick had been worried sick it was from a fever but several thermometers had confirmed it wasn’t. 

It was the ‘glow’, that’s what Alfred had told him. Pregnancy glow, resulting from the increase in oxygen and blood in the body which led to a rosy cheeked appearance.

That little pink tint to his sweet cheeks had made Tim the most darling little strawberry in the patch. When Dick had said as much Tim had positively sputtered in disbelief, blue eyes widening and redness spreading up to his ears in embarrassment as Dick cooed over him.

Alfred had seemed very much in the same boat though not as vocal. He was always plying Tim full of fresh foods and freshly baked desserts. Little chocolate croissants, peach mousse, and creme brulees with hard shells to crack with the back of a spoon. 

The favorites of the late Martha Wayne. Dick had thought it was a bit ironic for Grandma Wayne to have had such a sweet tooth with Bruce yet he’d still come out such a sour puss. 

But the eyes filled with stars and beaming smiles on Tim’s face when he’d caught sight of another dessert tray had been enough for Dick to hold his tongue at dinner. Dick had thought that Tim looked like a hamster, the way he’d stuff his cheeks full during desert. All of Alfred’s hard work was clearly paying off.

Tim’s cheeks gained a sweet roundness and his thighs grew soft and fleshy. His old basketball shorts and boxers were slowly growing more filled out. But even that couldn’t combat the fact that Tim was born so naturally small. The roundness of his belly had grown over the course of months, his hands often straying down to cup the baby bump. Tim had whined and huffed about the swelling and aches to his lower back and ankles that Dick had done his best to soothe with massages and oils to take away the pain.

Tim really had carried pregnancy well. 

It had been becoming of him in a way that had Dick, at times, squirming. Those soft thighs tucked into slacks that hugged his plush ass so nicely. Shirts that flowed over his bump and sweaters that buried him in their vastness. The way his soft hair curled gently around his ears and around the base of his neck. Cheeks so pretty and full and perfect for Dick to litter with kisses and squeeze.

Dick hadn’t known how to take the news when Tim had first announced it. Hell, none of the family had. 

Jason had choked on his mouthful of chicken and Damian had frozen where he’d had a glass of water pressed to his mouth. Alfred hadn’t been as visibly shocked but Dick had noticed that he’d slowed down almost imperceptibly as he corked the bottle of wine to cut him and Jason off. Bruce…Bruce had just stared .

It was a given that Bruce wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent of them but at the sight of an awkwardly tensed and uncomfortable Tim, Dick had jumped to stop Bruce from making anything worse. 

Tim’s face had been so pale that day, dark bags under his eyes as he fiddled with his fork and pushed brussel sprouts around on his plate. The little button of his nose had been red, still raw and frozen from the cold outside. Tim had been late to dinner, shoes coated in ice and slush from a WE meeting that ran longer than usual. 

The first few days after the family had found out had been stressful to say the least. Tim had been miserable , near the point of tears any time any of them had tried talking to him. Bruce had hidden away in his office, left earlier on patrol, and seemingly been doing his best to not interact with Tim.

“Who’s the dad?” Jason had asked at one point, green eyes curious and with none of the maliciousness and thin cruelty his words always seemed to carry. 

Tim’s lips had pursed and Dick knew in that moment to drop it. 

In a few months the gossip rags would already be tearing into Tim regardless of the truth. Once the small swell of Tim’s abdomen grew bigger, growing heavier with a child- Vale and all the parasites of Gotham would do and say anything to make a quick buck over the latest ‘Wayne Scandal!’.

Dick had done his best. He’d pushed Tim more to rest, worked with Alfred to figure out how the schedule for patrol would play out when it got too risky for Tim to go out and for the months of healing he’d need afterward.

Dick couldn’t say that a large part of him wasn’t excited. He could barely sleep at night, kept awake too much with thoughts of Tim and if he was sleeping comfortably, if he was obeying the diet restrictions both Alfred and Leslie had given him for his new…condition.

Dick spent hours at work googling various risks and procedures as well as timelines. He’d spent quite a bit pacing and wondering about how Tim’s spleenless conditions would come into play. 

Nearly a month into the news and Bruce had begun showing his face around a bit more, turning corners and stopping like a creep to stare as Tim sat and watched TV or researched something new on his laptop. Dick had seen the way his gaze had lingered on the littlest of the brood, eyes heavy with…something.

Dick had been on the verge of beating him over the head with an escrima stick to be a better father, mentor, and adult when he…did.

It’d been shocking at first, walking into the dining room for breakfast and staring at Tim and Bruce having breakfast together. Plates of scrambled egg whites, toast with butter and jam, sliced fruit, and glasses of juice.

It hadn’t been Alfred’s work. The fruit was crudely cut, the egg whites were just on the shy side of crispy and there were far too many dirty dishes in the sink to have been the result of Alfred’s pristine and military-like organization.

It took a moment before Dick realized that the breakfast spread had been Bruce’s handiwork. He almost hadn’t believed it. But then he saw the sparkling happiness in Tim’s expression as Bruce pushed a bowl of honeydew with what looked like roughly chopped ribbons of mint from the herb garden.

Dick had been happy at the development. Though it had been a bit strained when suddenly it seemed like Bruce was usurping Dick’s position. Suddenly Bruce wanted to be the one to drive Tim to and from work, no matter how much Tim had insisted to Dick that he was still capable of doing it himself. Private physicians and pediatricians were already being picked out. Alfred, having been given the go-ahead, was now renovating and hiring contractors to fix up the old Wayne nursery for Tim’s child. 

The nursery had been Bruce’s when he’d been just a little thing. It was locked behind a wall of dark mahogany wood, just a door down from the master bedroom. Bruce’s current bedroom.

Dick had almost felt a bit indignant that his original dream of having the nursery be constructed from the guest room located equidistant from both his and Tim’s rooms wouldn't come to pass. 

But Tim had been so happy, so lively, and so positively rosy cheeked at Bruce’s involvement that Dick hadn’t said a word and hadn’t dared try to raise a fuss.

A few months further in, when Tim was beginning to show more, and clothes were getting stretched over his bump. That’s when he was finally pulled off patrol. Personally, Dick would have insisted they do it a bit sooner. The black of Tim’s suit could only be so slimming.

But both he and Bruce had vouched for his competence in the field and that allowed him to continue going out until it was obvious that the rogues would notice something off once up close and personal.

But even off the roster, Tim was no less insistent on helping. Dick had seen the way he’d stay up late in the cave with Bruce, analyzing data for some cases. It was only that it was Bruce with him that Dick felt secure enough to leave them alone, confident that Bruce valued Tim’s health enough that he’d put him to bed before it got too late.

The situation at WE had also swiftly changed with Tim’s growing visible pregnancy. Paparazzi and reporters skulking around, hoping to get a shot to put into their speculative articles about Tim.

It wasn’t a commonly known fact that Tim was trans. Sure, if anyone googled articles from around a different time there’d be a few pieces that could be put together. A change in name, in the use of pronouns. 

If anyone tried pushing some bullshit out, Dick knew Bruce would’ve put a fast stop to it. Plus the drama of the situation was what really captured the attention of the Gotham media more than anything else.

The mysterious father of Tim Drake-Wayne’s child. It was very much a tale as old as time, a Hollywood-esque plot line. A sort of January Jones or Loretta Young sort of avid interest for the private love lives of the rich and famous.

Dick would admit that he’d given more than a cursory thought to the articles about the father being a high up WE executive with a wife and children. To a popular up and coming actor that had been more than a little touchy with Tim at a gala a year previous.  To even articles about himself and how he was spending more time than ever in Gotham. Of course all of those were simply speculations from Tim’s civilian side. Caped on the other hand…well Dick had heard whispers and edges of gossip about Superboy and Zachary Zatara and any number of heroes that Tim had a friendly relationship with. Not even ‘friendly’ , just… friendly.

Most of the articles were just smoke from a smoldering fire. Tim had been keeping his lips zipped, only occasionally straying out of the manor and letting the flames get fanned for a bit before they immediately died down again. 

Hiding it had never really been an option, according to Tim. He was a public figure, well known in both his civilian and caped persona. His disappearance for months and then subsequent reappearance with a baby would’ve raised brows and turned heads in his direction. It was his reasoning that if he allowed people to get their glimpses, to gawk, and to say what they needed to- then anything down the line just wouldn't be as interesting. Tim shopping for baby clothes or nursery supplies wouldn’t garner as much of a reaction if everyone was more focused on the sweet curve of his figure.

It was well thought out reasoning, Dick had to grant that. It had all the markings of Tim’s brilliant little brain and how he must’ve sat and thought through the pros and cons of being in public and having his baby rather than hiding it away and tucking it all back like it was shameful.

Which Dick had no doubt Tim must’ve weighed out. There must’ve been days or weeks where Tim had considered whether he’d even keep the child, let alone birth them. Dick knew that several heroes took precautions to make sure they didn’t end up having to weigh those thoughts. Barbara favored a little rod that was injected into her arm. Kori’s biology had never quite matched up with Earth's options but she’d been able to recreate a Tameranean tea using herbs from Earth.

Dick wasn’t clear on Tim’s preferred options but whatever they were…well none of the options were ever truly 100% safe. All it took was once and really really good luck. Or rather, bad luck if you looked at it that way.

Based on Tim’s reaction that night at dinner, it seemed like he’d really thought he was in the safe zone until he’d gotten confirmation on suspicions. What they were, Dick didn’t really have the guts to ask. There had to have been something that tingled Tim’s detective senses. A hyperawareness, some sign that his body was giving him.

For a while Dick had thought he’d just have to be content with not knowing and accept that. Until he got his answer on a quiet, snowy night. When it was just him and Tim in the living room, sipping on hot chocolate.

“I think Ra’s removed my IUD when he had his people take out my spleen.” Tim offered suddenly, filling the quiet pause of the room. The fireplace had gently crackling logs and the windows were guarding them from the fierce howl of the winter wind outside. 

For a beat Dick was completely silent, not knowing how to take what came out of Tim’s mouth. Then for another split second his heart stopped as thoughts of the mysterious father flooded his brain. His widened eyes must’ve been caught by Tim because he’d scrambled to assure Dick.

“No! No!” Smaller palms of denial waved in front of Dick’s face as Tim scrambled to his side in fleece pajamas. “Ra’s definitely isn’t the father! The timeline doesn’t match up!” 

Tim was red cheeked and harried, nearly breathless from the scrambled crawl he made to get from one side of the couch to Dick’s side. His baby blues were wide and beseeching as he stared at Dick to believe him.

Dick did. Easily. 

Ra’s al Ghul being a creep certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities. Plus Dick had noticed how he was, after Tim had pulled the rug from out under his feet. That kick that had thrown Tim out of a window had been impassioned but crude and sloppy in a way Al Ghul’s typically weren’t. Tim had thrown Ra’s off balance and Dick could only imagine what that did for the pseudo-immortal.

It made sense. How Tim’s careful steps to protect himself would’ve been made ineffective by Ra’s (and Dick did not want to think of what Ra’s plan was with having a creeper doctor remove Tim’s IUD while he was bleeding out on a surgeon’s cutting board). Tim had been so thin and borderline emaciated when he’d returned to Gotham with his proof to push the Justice League into action. That along with any hormone imbalances he may have been suffering. They weren’t ideal conditions for a menstruation so the absence of one wouldn’t have been noted because they weren’t supposed to have been happening anyway.

Poor Tim. Dick couldn’t help but wrap the smallest bird up in his arms, tugging him close and burying his nose into the baby-soft dark hair.

Tim let out little breathy sighs, shoulders shifting and weight adjusting as he tried to settle against Dick comfortably. Eventually they managed to get into a position that was good for them both. Tim was situated right between Dick’s spread legs, his hands cradled under the soft swell of his child with his back pressed to Dick’s front. Dick had his nose tucked into the warm, soft curve of Tim’s neck, lips pressed close enough to kiss his bare shoulder as Tim let him hug him.

Dick tried to resist the thought as it bubbled in the back of his mind. Having Tim situated so soft and pretty between his legs, letting his hands stroke down the sides of his small chest and rest lightly on his belly. Dick’s palm was large enough to hide the growing child and something about the sight…about that sight. 

It had Dick’s pulse jumping.

Tim had been working from home since he turned in a leave of absence into WE. Bruce had made a space for him in his office and the two were often away most of the day, working and typing and doing whatever it was they needed to be doing.

Then at night they’d skulk out and Tim would run comms with Barbara while the rest of the family patrolled and worked Gotham. Dick had worried about the stress, he’d been concerned about allowing Tim to continue a semi-active role all the way up until the day of his nephew’s eventual arrival.

Dick loved his nephew, absolutely adored him much to Tim’s amusement.

Little Thomas was born a small, jellybean little thing. Dick had known that Tim was born a tiny child but he’d never quite expected for Thomas to follow in Timmy's footsteps.

Pink, fresh skin with a button nose that scrunched up in distress every time he was jostled too much. Blue crystal eyes that were so much like Tim’s that peeked from behind tired lids, and the softest head of baby hair that Dick had ever felt in his life . 

There wasn’t much to say for features, most babies didn’t begin to resemble anyone until they were months older. But Dick could see the sprinkles of Tim in baby Tommy. The little curve of his cupid bow, his little ears, his dimples. Dick had seen Tim’s baby pictures, the way Tim had been nestled and cocooned in the arms of the late Jack Drake. The pair had born a remarkable resemblance to Tim and his baby as Tim rocked Tommy with careful shushing sounds and a warm bottle.

Dick was in love. He could sit and spend centuries watching, as Tim carefully handled Tommy, hugging and kissing him and never grow tired of the sight. Damian had not shown much of a reaction or indicated his feelings for how he felt about Tim’s pregnancy but Dick had noticed he’d grown remarkably gentler as the due date arrived. He never asked to hold Tommy, not like how Bruce or Dick did but he watched with a silent appraisal from the corner of the room. There was a small stack of baby blankets that appeared in Tommy’s nursery one night, made of a soft material with gold thread embroidery of Tommy’s name on the edges. Alfred was handy with a needle but he’d never had the patience for the leisurely art, according to him. Damian was talented and skilled in a whole number of things and Dick knew how much he favored the arts. Painting and drawing weren’t all that far off from embroidery.

Still Damian never owned up to it. Instead acting like a silent, watching guard in the corner of the room whenever Tommy was napping in the living room or desperately trying to crawl too early.

At the sight of little limbs pushing and moving, small brow furrowed in concentration, Alfred had let out a light chuckle.

“My word, Master Thomas,” Alfred shook his head, gray eyes kind and full of warmth as he pressed a gentle hand to Tommy’s abdomen to keep him still as he was changed. “I swear you’re all more alike to Master Bruce than any of you would care to admit.”

Tommy was a sweet baby, though an absolute hellion at times. He’d recently discovered that he could push more air into his lungs to scream louder which would yield faster results. 

Tommy wants milk?

Scream.

Tommy wants sleep?

Scream.

Tommy wants momma?

Scream.

If Dick had thought that Tim had carried pregnancy well, he’d carried motherhood beautifully .

Tim was still carrying a softness to him, a sweet edge of curves and flesh as he swaddled and carried Tommy. His eyes positively glittered like stars every time he looked at Dick as if to say ‘See! I’m doing great! Aren’t I doing great!’.

Dick had been worried in the beginning, he’d been concerned for Tim and how well he’d adjust to parenthood. Tim had always been a single minded sort of person. Wholly dedicated to everything he did. 

Among the entire family, Dick could honestly say that Tim was probably the most dedicated to the mission alongside Bruce. The two of them saw things the same, processed them the same way too. The two of them understood each other on a level that almost seemed deeper at times and Dick would admit to having felt jealous the first time he’d seen it.

Whether he’d been jealous of Tim or Bruce he didn’t know, but he’d felt a burn of something inside him the first time they’d both looked at each other and seemed to have been able to understand one another without saying a word.

Dick had thought a baby would’ve been quite the inconvenience to work around but the two of them had taken to it as smoothly as they had anything. Babies slept more than anything so Bruce had explained that nothing would truly need to change until several months if not years down the line.

But Dick could see the beginning of those shifts already. Bruce was coming out of the hard shell armor he always had around him more and more. The way the stressed line of his brow would lighten every time he caught sight of a quietly gurgling Tommy. 

Dick would admit that Tommy looked best being held in Tim’s arms, but Bruce’s came a very close second. The contrast of beaten, and scarred hands gently playing with little hands that reached up to him just warmed something in Dick’s chest. Tommy was positively dwarfed when in Bruce’s arms, his pecs and biceps larger than the baby in his arms. 

Dick would say that Bruce looked like an indulgent grandfather whenever he held Tommy but it never quite fit. The softness and love that shone in Alfred’s expression when he held Tommy was there but not quite the same.

Dick decided to blame it on the silver fox effect that Bruce had going for him. Bruce definitely wasn’t too old to have children so the grandfatherly look didn’t suit him as well as it did Alfred.

The rest of the world seemed to agree.

Gossip rags, magazines, newspapers, and bloggers had all hopped onto the train of Tommy’s father being none other than Bruce Wayne himself. Paparazzi shots of Bruce carrying Tommy around Gotham, to WE, to business dinners, one shot of a recent charity gala also made an appearance. Tommy’s namesake of the late Thomas Wayne also hadn’t helped speculations.

Fingers were further pointed at Tommy’s classic ‘Wayne’ features of dark hair and blue eyes. Completely ignoring that those features could have just as easily come from Tim. Arguments and online posts were made about Tommy’s little chin and soft structure and how greatly he resembled Bruce when he’d been a baby.

The offered ‘proof’ had been a newspaper clipping with a soft faced baby with the headline proclaiming Bruce’s birth. Dick personally thought all babies looked the same but that gossip sold like hotcakes. Dick knew that Green Lantern had used it as ammo at a recent Justice League meeting  much to Bruce’s impassive reaction. 

Tim’s transition back to WE and out on the streets had been slow going. Dick knew he’d been staying up late and putting in hours of work to get back to street ready but the slow healing of childbirth all but demanded he slow down. 

Dick had passed the sight of Bruce comforting Tim more than once. Tim was always tucked into his arms, face pressed into his neck and his place in Bruce’s arms had almost been as natural and fitting as Tommy’s place in them. Bruce’s hand dwarfed Tim’s head the same way it did Tommy’s body as he stroked silky curls and murmured low, inaudible words of comfort to him.

Dick always jumped at the chance for baby duty, always eager to coo and kiss at Tommy’s little cheeks and baby nose. He looked into his wide little eyes and imagined other features on him than the ones he could see. He imagined Tommy’s skin to be a touch darker than the peachy color he was. He imagined big blue eyes that were a perfect mix of his eyes and the glittering clarity of Tim’s. He imagined Tommy growing up and learning all the flips and tumbles that Dick’s parents taught him. There was a moment where right after Tommy was born, Dick couldn’t help but think that Johnny would’ve been a much cuter name. John Drake-Wayne.

Dick had just as quickly tempered that thought down and greeted Tommy with soft coos of his name. Just as he did every time Tommy was passed into his arms.

When he was a few months old, Tim began making short trips out to Gotham with Bruce. Accompanying him on stings that weren’t expected to yield much and small operations that wouldn’t involve much fighting. Those were Dick’s favorite nights. When Damian would be up in his room with homework while Alfred tidied up little chores. Leaving Dick and Tommy all alone to happily play and cheer him on in his attempts to crawl and turn over on his back.

It was on one of those nights that Jason slinked into the manor. He’d been mainly silent for the most part, out of Gotham for the bulk of Tim’s pregnancy. Dick knew that he’d been the one to send wooden carved animals to decorate Tommy’s nursery with. Dick had recognized the handiwork from when Jason had been in woodshop back in highschool and he’d bring back a whole manner of things that he’d crafted from the spare wood.

Dick still had the sad looking little horse that Jason had carved for him.

Dick had caught sight of him just as he was lifting his head from a giggling Tommy’s stomach. The sound of raspberries had been filling the room up until Jason’s arrival. 

Dick hadn’t initially been planning to give Tommy and Jason bonding time but he’d seen how quiet Jason was as he watched them. There was no burn of maliciousness or anger, not like there always was on Jason and rightly so. Jason had almost looked…like a kid. His eyes were wide and curious in the same way he’d been when he’d first inquired to Tim about the father. Dick could see where Jason’s gloveless hands were flexing against his knee, thick fingers nearly reaching out in their direction before pulling back.

When Dick held out a quiet Tommy in his direction Jason instantly looked like a cat whose fur had been brushed the wrong way. Wide eyed and tense as he stared at Tommy with blatant disbelief.

“Do you want to hold him?” Dick offered.

Dick had been fully expecting to have to correct Jason’s form, to tell him to support the neck and hold him close to his body. But Jason had fallen into it like it was natural. His calloused hands held Tommy gently, cradling him close and lifting him up to his face for inspection. Tommy seemed equally as curious, fist shoved into his mouth as he idly inspected Jason as though a giant wasn’t holding him in his grasp. A beat passed and Dick watched, fascinated, as Tommy smiled a wide gummy grin that was all Tim up at Jason.

Dick wouldn’t say that Jason melted. He wouldn't even say that he turned into a puddle. But the sharp, hard edge of Jason softened. The permanent furrow in his brow lightened and his green eyes turned the slightest bit gentle as he stared down at a lightly squirming Tommy that was meeting his gaze full force.

That was when the silent alert had come through about a break in at a warehouse Dick had been monitoring. He could’ve forwarded it to Bruce and Tim, they were both already out in the city but on the complete wrong side of Gotham. By the time they arrived it would likely be over. But if Dick suited up and raced he may be able to catch his perp in the act.

Damian was upstairs, Alfred was right around the corner, and from what Dick saw and knew; there was a good chance that Jason would sooner die than hurt the softly whining Tommy.

Dick’s decision had been made.

Clean up was quick. A quick breakup of the gathered group at the alerted warehouse followed by a swift hand off to the GCPD and Dick was ready to return back to the manor.

It wasn’t late by any means and both Tim and Bruce were likely still in the middle of their quiet stakeout. Ship watching at the docks, it was essentially busy work. There was always a low but not zero percent chance that an unscheduled boat arriving was carrying any combination of drugs or weapons.

More often than not that duty was primarily assigned as a punishment but Bruce had taken to slowly transitioning Tim back into the field through it. Not that he ever seemed upset. He always returned higher in spirit afterwards, likely at being able to do something resembling active fieldwork no matter what it was.

Dick had only been planning to pop by with a hello, maybe let them know about Jason’s surprise visit and assure them of Tommy’s safety. Jason was still so distant from the family and from the way he’d looked at Tommy it looked like they might have another prospective babysitter.

Dick used the fire escapes to reach the roofs of the buildings at the docks, leaving his motorcycle parked below. Typically the docks were more lively during the day than at night. With the nearest residential areas being several blocks away it was also the quietest part of Gotham after the sun went down. Dick was able to find Batman and Red Robin by pinpointing their most favored stakeout location. It was a dark edge of the roof that wasn’t visible from the ground or the tops of other buildings unless you knew where to look. There was a small ledge off a window across the alley beside it that you had to climb to reach it. It was the only way that someone would be able to find the hiding spot and it was where Dick was climbing up to when he first caught sight of them.

The Red Robin suit was in the middle of being altered. Where before the suit previously provided substantial padding and protection it now hugged Tim in a slightly different manner. Tim’s hips had grown the slightest bit wider, his suit showed that off, revealing the soft curve of his waist as he grappled, ran, and walked.

Dick had done his best to ignore how much he liked the newest fit of it and Tim was in the process of altering it- but had still decided to continue using it in the meanwhile. 

It still zipped up, so why not?

Why not?

Why not, because that sweet curve of Tim’s waist and the new fullness of his hips was all Dick could think about as he watched Bruce fuck into a silently gasping Tim in the hidden corner of their roof.

Dick’s footing was secured, both through instinct and muscle memory so he didn’t slip when he’d first caught sight of them. It didn’t really seem to matter because neither of them could see Dick from their position.

Tim was pressed against the wall of the roof that provided cover. His back was pressed tightly to it as his legs wrapped tightly around Bruce’s waist, hanging just over where his utility belt lay. Bruce was holding Tim up, pinning him to the wall with his hands holding up Tim’s bottom for support. Dick couldn’t see where the white latex of a condom was wrapped around a large, red cock fucking into Tim’s pussy so hard he could hear it.

Thick, wet squelches that were fucked out of Tim with every thrust into him. A drop of lube dripped out of Tim’s spread open pussy and Dick’s heart was beating so hard in his chest he swore he heard the ‘plop’ of it as it hit the roof Bruce and Tim were standing on.

Bruce’s bared teeth and concentrated expression were pressed to Tim’s forehead. Dick could see where Tim’s removed cowl was laying against his neck while a classic green Robin domino adorned his face. Tim’s mouth was open in a small ‘o’ shape, the furrow of his brow visible as he breathed out soft “gnnnh hahhnn hann hannnh nnnghh-” sounds.

Tim’s arms were tightly wound around Bruce’s neck, his palms resting on opposite shoulders as he raised his head up and kissed into Bruce’s mouth with little kitten licks. Bruce obediently opened in return and Dick saw the pink of Tim’s tongue as it worked into Bruce, followed by light hums of delight and pleasure as Bruce’s grip tightened on his ass.

The Red Robin suit had suffered different alterations from what Jason had originally designed it as. It was more fitted to Tim than when he’d first donned it and it also had the notable slit down the crotch line in case Tim ever needed to use the bathroom. Both the Batsuit and Nightwing suits had little slots that would allow for the quick removal and adjustment of their jock straps so they would wiggle their cocks out enough to piss and Tim’s design had always seemed more cumbersome by comparison. Not to mention that as opposed to peeing off the edge of a building or against a brick wall like Dick would do. Tim had to deal with the indignity of squatting and risking letting his skin touch the germ infested Gotham ground.

Dick would admit that he’d asked Barbara what she would do in case she’d ever needed to use the bathroom while in the suit and she’d stared at him like he was an idiot.

“Uh…I go before I leave?”

But it seemed like Barbara’s Batgirl suit had one little flaw when compared to Tim’s suits.

It was that, apparently, all Tim had to do was unzip that little slit for Bruce to fuck into his cunt.

Dick watched, throat full and swallowing at the sight. He couldn’t look away from it.

Tim’s pink mouth was open, ruby lips connected with strings of spit as he gasped out half said words and what sounded like barely muffled calls of Bruce’s name.

Bruce was biting into his bottom lip, trying to muffle grunts but not doing a good enough job as Dick could hear them from his place on the ledge. Bruce’s fingers were digging into the soft fat of Tim’s hips and ass and Dick had no doubt that if he ever looked below those clothes that Tim always wore he’d spot fingerprint bruises that lined up perfectly with Bruce’s hands.

Dick had a perfect view of Tim’s pink, swollen cunt swallowing in Bruce’s girthly length. The ease at which it sank in nearly had Dick tipping off the ledge. Dick had seen Bruce naked before, numerous times in the showers or when patching up a bad cut or scrape on him. He knew how big and monstrous Bruce’s cock was and he always sent quiet well wishes to Selina and her poor kitty. Her and every other woman that had the guts to fuck Bruce.

But Tim was taking it with such ease and grace, hips arching, thrusting up and carefully lowering back down onto the cock speared in him. Dick felt his throat go dry as the Sahara as Bruce bottomed out, the edge of his Batman suit where his cock ended pressing flush to Tim’s spread thighs and bare cunt.

“Mmmnn hha ahhh B! Nnnngh hahh hahh hnnngh B, oh god! B!” Tim was murmuring little moans under his breath, pressing his kiss sore mouth to Bruce’s chin and littering bits of love against him.

Dick could see the clench of his abdominals and tightening of his thighs and knew instinctively that Tim was cumming. He was squeezing and clenching around Bruce’s cock and riding out an orgasm to little gasps and soft ‘ah ah ah’s’ as Bruce dedicatedly held him through it. Pressing soothing noises to his forehead and cheek and holding Tim further down on himself.

Dick could feel himself hardening in his suit, the press of a warm, interested cock against the ungiving fabric of his jock.

Bruce murmured little words of comfort, voice deep and languid and patient as he let Tim squirm in pleasure against him. Tim’s whines were swallowed by Bruce’s mouth, his tongue sinking into Tim’s mouth and letting him press their cries together until Tim stopped squirming against him. For a second Dick thought they were done but then immediatly felt like a sucker when the very next second had Bruce rearing back and fucking into Tim with such ferocity that Dick felt the edge of concern.

Tim’s following cries were filled with nothing but gasps of pleasure and the edge of pain from overstimulation but nothing more severe. Even as the wet sounds of a well loved pussy caressed Dick’s ears, part of him still couldn’t ignore the edge of worry.

Tim had freshly given birth months ago, and though Leslie had informed him and the family that it was an easy labor, Dick still couldn’t get rid of the months of concern that he’d carried for Tim over the last year.

Should Tim be having such rough sex so soon? Shouldn’t it be softer, more tender and loving?

Plus there was the small, little, tiny issue with the fact that Dick couldn’t see that familiar flash of a condom-

Bruce let out a deep groan, a long sound that seemed to verberate through the alley between them. Dick’s attention caught onto the fleshy head of Bruce’s cock as he tugged it out of Tim. 

Nope. Definitely no condom. Bruce was going completely bare back which was against every principle and lecture that he’d ever given Dick. Then again between the two of them, Bruce was the only one with an oopsie daisy kid. 

(Dick knew for a fact that Damian would kill him if he ever heard him call him that).

Dick’s thoughts immediately dispersed as Bruce let out a choked groan as he pushed deeply into Tim, swallowing Tim’s whimper with a kiss as he pressed in as close to Tim as he could.

“There, there -” Bruce moaned lowly, mouth pressed from Tim’s mouth up to his temple. A hand rose from where it was cupping Tim’s soft bottom to stroke back sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead. “Just like that Robin, just like that- good boy, mmnphh yes, yes, yes good boy- ”

Tim was positively preening at Bruce’s words, his body slinking down the slightest bit from the loss of one of Bruce’s hands but his grip on his shoulders were no less firm as he used them to raise himself up and lower down onto Bruce with a little swirl of his hips.

Wetness was covering Tim’s thighs, soaking his pussy with clear lube all over the exposed areas of his cunt and bits of his inner thighs. 

“ Fuck -” Bruce breathed sharply and Dick watched with a rabbiting heart in his chest as Bruce began giving short thrusts into Tim. Not really thrusting or pulling out at all, but more like he was rubbing his cock into the warm welcoming heat of Tim’s cunt.

“Oh, Robin -” Bruce was saying the name with more tender affection than Dick had ever heard him say in his entire life. “So good for me sweetie, always so good- you’re mine aren’t you? All mine-”

Tim was nodding desperately against Bruce’s neck, mouthing at the hard metal bits of Bruce’s chest plate with his red lips as he hummed.

“All yours,” Tim promised softly, lifting his mouth to pat kisses to Bruce’s jaw. “All yours, all yours, all yours-”

“ Yes .” Bruce punctuated the word with a harsh thrust that had Tim letting out a little choked sound. “You’re mine- my perfect boy, you’ve given me everything- ”

Bruce let out a gutted gasp and Dick watched as his head tilted back, his hips still moving in hard little pushes into wet squelching pussy. 

“You’re so perfect, perfect for me- you were made for me, ” 

Tim let out a lovely little sigh, his face nuzzling Bruce’s chest, little chirps of contentedness as Bruce pounded his cunt with bruising force. 

Dick’s cock was so hard in his jock, the heat built up in his suit was so hot he nearly felt dizzy.

Bruce was grunting, no more words except for punctuated sounds with every slam into Tim’s reddened cunt.

“So good, such a good boy, so loyal -”

That was said with such reverence that Dick couldn’t help but focus on the sight of them. Tim hummed so happily and so content and if Dick had even the slightest doubt that Tim didn’t want Bruce fucking him it was all gone in that moment.

“You must’ve missed me so much didn’t you? You ripped through the world to bring me back didn’t you, my Robin?”

Tim nodded, mouth curved into a little cry that seemed half pleasure and half sadness at the memory of life without Bruce.

“You brought me h-home hhanngh -” Bruce pushed in a final time with a deep grunt, letting Tim clench down on his cock and enjoying the warmth of a hot, welcoming pussy. 

“You never hhann gave up on me hahh ahhhn-” Bruce lowered his mouth to Tim’s, pressing their lips together and something in Dick positively ached in want at the sight. Bruce kissed with an audible ‘smeck’, laying his forehead against Tim’s as the two held still.

“You stood by my s-side-” Bruce words pushed out a low sigh out of his mouth and Dick could practically feel how close to the edge he was.

The next words were said so lowly Dick nearly strained to hear it from the ledge below them.

“You gave me a child- ” Bruce’s words were tinged with pure awe. The scrape of gravel under their feet rang in Dick’s ears like the detonation of an explosion.

Dick swore he felt his heart stop, he couldn’t hear the beat ringing in his ears with the pulsing force of it.

Tommy . Dick thought, realization flooding him. They were talking about Tommy .

“He’s so beautiful, Robin- our baby ,” 

Tim whispered inaudible words, nuzzling up at Bruce with pure happiness radiating from every bit of his body.

“Our sweet boy-” Bruce began letting out a hitched sound from deep in his chest, larger body pressing even closer to Tim as his hips began making jolted movements, “-I’d love to give him s-some siblings-!”

Bruce fucked in with a deep grunt, making punctuated sounds of effort as Tim let out whines at the warmth that was flooding him. Dick saw flashes of pearly white fluids being pushed out from around Bruce’s cock. One of Tim’s arms let go of their white-knuckled grip around Bruce’s shoulder and shot down between them. His fingers caught drops of white that threatened to leak out as Bruce nearly shivered from the force of his orgasm.

Dick held back the bubbling whine in his throat at the sight. 

He watched as the small pool of cum Tim dutifully collected was rubbed and spread onto his pussy. Dick swallowed, back tight with tension as Tim’s white coated fingers gently rubbed at his clit. He stroked harder and faster until he was gasping and thrusting up against Bruce who dutifully stood still and endured even though Dick knew from experience that his softened cock must be burning from the pain of rough handling so soon after orgasm.

For a full minute, the only noise was the distant sound of ship horns, the out of breath panting from Tim and low, slowed breaths of Bruce.

Dick’s feet felt locked in place but he knew he couldn’t linger for longer than he should. That was just begging for trouble and a confrontation was not something Dick wanted to go through when he could feel drops of precum beading at the tip of his penis.

Silently, Dick climbed down. The fire escape made it so he didn’t have to use his grapple but he took care to make the same careful steps he took going up so the rusted metal didn’t creak.

The ride back to the manor was an uncomfortable one. Dick had to keep shifting and adjusting his stance so his aroused cock wouldn’t suffer too much jostling. By the time he rode into the manor, he’d gone flaccid. 

Jason was in the living room and watching Tommy as he sleepily nodded off, evidence of dried milk splattered all down the front of his bib. Jason greeted his entrance with a silent acknowledgement and just as quickly departed as he’d arrived. It wasn’t much longer before Alfred arrived, ushering both Dick and Tommy up to bed.

Bruce and Tim didn’t return until much later into the night as they always did when they left for patrol. Part of Dick couldn’t help but wonder and think about what they must’ve done between when Dick left and when they arrived.

Neither of them gave anything away. Both retreated to the showers and switched swiftly into comfortable clothing. Tim retreated up to Tommy’s nursery while Bruce remained down in the cave to enter in data and upload gathered files. After a few more hours he’d also retreat and stop by Tommy’s nursery to check on him before swiftly returning to his own room.

It was routine. There was no hair, word, or article of clothing that was out of place between them.

Dick knew because after that night he started to watch . 

He watched the loving way Bruce wiped spit up off Tommy’s mouth and how it seemed so much more tender. How he stared down at the babe in his arms and…took him in. 

He took in the sight of Tommy the same way someone would take in the sight of Niagara Falls or Mount Everest. There was a simmering devotion in his eyes that Dick hadn’t seen as being any different from the rest of theirs.

He’d never paid mind to it, the way Bruce would strut through Gotham, borderline parading Tommy around. He was proud, clearly. He took so much pride in Tommy but it was like there was another angle to it. Maybe the edge of cockiness where Bruce was showing off to all of Gotham and none of them had a clue.

Sure, there were those speculations that Dick was now definitely lending more than half an ear to. But it seemed like Bruce was rubbing it in. He made sure that any pictures that got out had him in them, that the whole city saw how good Tommy looked in his arms and by his side. Dick would compare it to a dog marking their territory and Bruce’s words from that night suddenly came clanging back in Dick’s ears.

“You’re mine aren’t you? All mine.”

Of course Bruce had always been the possessive sort. But there were also things he was restricted by and that was social convention.

Would Bruce ever be able to come out and let the world know that the little baby with dark curls and a sweet smile was his baby? Tim had never seemed bothered at all by the attempts at shaming that Vicky Vale and other columnists had tried to put him through and from what Dick had seen that night he’d appeared to be completely secure in what Bruce was to him.

Now what Bruce and Tim were, well that was a question not even Dick knew the answer to. The way the two of them had stared at each other, the way they’d fucked so deeply and fervently. Tim’s ease and acceptance of Bruce into his body and the way that he’d always been so dedicated and loyal to Bruce. It was hard to trace and think about where it had potentially started. 

Dick had, of course, done the math after he’d returned to the manor. He’d counted back the months of when Tommy was conceived. He’d already done so when Tim had first told them of his pregnancy but that had been nothing but a cosmetic detail in the situation at the time.

But now, now Dick knew that Bruce was Tommy’s father. Now Dick knew that it was around the time that Bruce had finally begun taking back his mantle of Batman following his recovery of being lost in time. Like Tim said, the timeline of when his IUD had been removed and when he’d last interacted with Ra’s Al Ghul didn’t match up.

What did match up was the weeks where Tim had been ‘stuck’ being Bruce’s primary caretaker while Dick and Damian ran Gotham as Batman and Robin.

Dick could see it. Bruce had been gaining back that living complexion of his. The dark circles under his eyes lightened, the wrinkled line of his brow eased. Tension melted away as he was back home, surrounded by his family- thanks to his beloved Robin.

Dick could see the image clear as day. Alfred out in the garden or getting groceries and Tim climbing up into Bruce’s lap. Tugging down his sleeping pants and slowly sitting on his cock, grunting at the pain from not having been stretched out by him in months.

Bruce, possessive and all encompassing as he was, gripping Tim’s hips and fucking up into him with fervor. Whispered words between them, Bruce’s awe at Tim’s devotion and loyalty.

Both of them not even thinking of the mess or the risk, simply content and secure with the belief that Tim still had his IUD. Tim’s soft moans and coos as Bruce filled him with warmth. His cheeks fuller than they’d been in weeks, his mind clearer than its been in months. He was finally eating right and sleeping through the night now that Bruce had been returned to the fold.

God. The absolute high those two must’ve been riding.

How many times had they fucked before Bruce knocked Tim up?

Dick had checked Bruce’s office the morning after, he knew it was soundproofed. 

How many times had Bruce bent Tim over that desk? 

The ease and solace that they’d both shown in fucking wasn’t something that came from a new relationship. The ease in which Bruce had handled Tim and the way Tim had handled him in return- that was experience . 

That was intimacy born from the comfort and familiarity of another person’s body. Had Bruce jumped immediately to raw dogging Tim? How had he known about Tim’s IUD when Dick hadn’t even known until Tim told him?

Was that how it happened? Tim insisting it was okay if Bruce hit it raw? 

No, that didn’t fit. Bruce never trusted anything unless he’d done it himself.

Fuck, was that how it was then? Bruce had put Tim’s legs up in stirrups before his stint lost in time and personally ensured it?

Dick was lending a lot more thought to it all than he’d thought he would. 

There was a sort of morbid curiosity that was flowing through him. There should probably be a part of him that was horrified that Bruce knocked up his underage adopted son, Dick’s brother. 

But for the most part, that edge of anger and revulsion…wasn’t there.

Dick loved Tommy, he would give anything to keep him forever. Tim was happy, happier than he’d been in a long time. Bruce…Bruce was talking to them, interacting with them, reaching out to them. He wasn’t closed off and silent as he kept some small part of himself private from them.

Jason was edging closer to the manor, coming slowly back into the fold. Damian’s bursts of anger had lessened, his teachers told Dick he was being more cooperative in school and even reaching out to classmates.

(Dick looked into it and apparently Damian was growing closer with children who’d recently had a younger sibling be born and well…his heart had swelled up in pride at the young boy he was now versus the hostile, untrusting assassin he’d been when he arrived).

Dick’s camera roll was filled to capacity with photos of Tommy and well…Dick was happy too.

So much of himself had been lost to the mission, parts that he would never get back. He’d sacrificed so much and had even more taken and his family was finally together and happy so…why not?

Bruce and Tim and however long they’d been hiding, it wouldn’t stay hidden forever. Tommy would grow and get curious. Tommy’s features would go from baby to more clearly recognizable identifiers that people would be able to assign to Bruce.

Tim and Bruce and whatever overly complicated thing they were, it wasn’t something that would likely be undone by loud voices of disapproval. Bruce would catch some shit for it and who knew what Selina and Talia would do. But if anything was sure it was that Bruce would stick to his guns.

Part of Dick was a bit envious. Bruce was going to be getting…everything Dick had ever wanted. (Sure maybe he’d catch a charge but nothing that would actually stick. Alfred may give him the silent treatment once he started looking back to his memories and wondering just how old Tim had been when they’d started up but even that would fade as well.)

None of Dick’s relationships had lasted no matter how much he’d wanted them to. He was growing older and babies weren’t something you could just ask for at a kiosk. 

Tommy had been a nice little peek into the future for Dick, a look of what a life beyond the cape looked like and…Dick wanted it.

He wanted the nappies and toys, the baby powders and soaps that left him smelling like a fresh flower. Even the crying was worth it when he had big blues looking up at him like he was the world .

Tommy was such a sweet baby and Dick was sure he’d appreciate having cousins his age to play and mess around with. The community had such few babies and none of them were even close to Tommy’s age. Tommy would grow up alone and the ache that flooded Dick’s heart at the unjust thought was enough to spring him to action.

Bruce wasn’t a callous mentor, and he definitely loved Dick. 

So did Tim. He knew they’d had their rough patches but they’d grown closer during Tim’s pregnancy. Dick more gentle and less likely to give into the cruel edges of himself and Tim, in need of soft handling and a warm familiar touch, had soaked up the attention. 

Bruce’s words that night had also shown an inclination for more babies to fill up the manor and Tim had seemed just as willing to entertain the thought. Tim’s continued active role in his pregnancy had definitely filled Dick with unease but given his request, he was sure he could temper down the worried thoughts to something more reasonable.

There was also the small fact that Dick had thus far pointedly refused to acknowledge. That he was so undeniably attracted to Tim as a mother. His soft thighs, his rounded face, those pink petal lips crusted with chocolate and whipped cream from licking up deserts.

Asking Bruce and Tim for permission to knock him up with Dick’s baby was a large request and definitely one he may need to butter them up to. Given Jason’s increased frequency of visits and the way Dick had also caught him giving Tim lingering stares, he was sure he wouldn't be alone in his own feelings.

Tim was truly perfect, even before Tommy. His understanding, the depth of his emotion and his ease with which he forgave Dick for all of his missteps. There were times where Dick felt like maybe Tim saw something in him that Dick didn’t even see in himself.

He wondered if that was what had enraptured Bruce.

That acceptance, that selfless love and adoration that seemed to drip out of Tim’s every pore. The way Tim’s folds had stretched around Bruce’s cock, body open and willing and taking him in, sucking him in, and keeping parts of Bruce inside him even when he was gone.

Part of Dick saw that and wanted.

They were feelings he’d long pushed down and shoved away in favor of the amicable and mutually loving friendship they’d shared for years.

But now it was as if something had shifted. Like Dick could see the path where before there had been none.

Part of Dick wondered if the desire he felt to impart some of himself into Tim was what Bruce had felt.

That want, borderline-need to have something tangible of himself and Tim together and have the world acknowledge it. Dick could understand how Bruce had gone so weak kneed at it.

Tim was such a tender, sweet kid- always had been. It was something Tommy took after him, Dick could see it even when he was still an infant.

He wondered if their kid would carry those same elements of Tim.

Dick had always wanted a girl, one with his loving soul and none of his bitterness or pain from life. One that could get the redo he’d always wanted.

Mary. Like his mom. She’d be sweet and small and fit perfectly in Dick’s arms the way Tommy did in Bruce’s. Dick had been told about what a rowdy baby he’d been, how he’d absolutely refused to let his mother eat anything but fresh persimmons. Something hard for traveling performers to get but they’d indulged Dick. From the very beginning his parents had given all they could for Dick.

Before he knew it, Dick slowed to a stop in front of Bruce’s office door. The one that Bruce and Tim locked themselves behind while they did WE work, straying out occasionally for food and to spend a few hours with Tommy.

Dick knew the door and office was soundproofed from the inside, even if he pressed his ear close to the wood he wouldn’t hear the sounds he’d heard that night.

Tim was behind those doors, spread open and getting loved, pumped full of Bruce’s desire and wants. 

Dick raised a hand, fingers curled into a fist.

Bruce was giving himself over, allowing himself to feel freedom from the life of torture he’d forced himself to endure. Finding liberation and freedom in the welcoming space between Tim’s legs.

Dick allowed for two sharp knocks to ring out and wondered if they were scrambling to get themselves back in order behind the door. Dick wouldn’t mind whatever state they were in. Particularly not Tim. Debauchery looked good on him, cheekbones red with an aroused flush, skin sticky with sweat. Dick had always thought Tim smelled nice and he was sure that scent would be even more pleasant, thick and honeyed when he knelt between his thighs and worked his tongue into that divine cunt.

Dick didn’t hear footsteps approaching but he heard the latch of the door as it unlocked. Tim swung it open, cheeks as rosy as ever as his eyes gazed up at Dick in question. Dick looked behind him and spotted  Bruce at his desk, body languid and relaxed in his chair as his head also rose in question. The curtains were drawn to not let in any light, or allow anyone to peek in.

Dick stepped in, resting a hand on Tim’s chest as he did and slowly pushed the door closed behind him.

Tim stared up at Dick in confusion, a soft furrow forming between his brows in question. Bruce seemed to pick up on something, his relaxed posture straightening up in his chair. Dick could see the edge of curiosity in his eyes as he twisted the lock of the door closed.

Tim made a light noise, soft form standing pretty in front of Dick in his tight slacks.

Dick could see where the third button of Tim’s dress shirt wasn’t fully pushed through the hole. Dick was sure there were already fingerprint bruises that had deepened on Tim’s hips and a pussy that was wet and loose with pleasure or buzzing in anticipation from an interrupted session.

Bruce slowly lowered his pen to the desk, dark blues staring at Dick in unconcealed interest as he edged closer to Tim.

Tim, for his part, seemed utterly clueless, staring up at him with question in his face about his sudden appearance.

“Dick?” Tim asked, pretty red mouth curved into confusion as Dick lifted a hand to cup his cheek.

God, Tim was the prettiest fucking thing that Dick had ever seen. That grabable waist, full hips, plush mouth, and warm cunt-

Dick had no idea how any one could resist.

“Dick?” Tim repeated, expression slowly dawning as he seemingly began to catch onto something. The way Tim repeated his name carried the edge of something, the beginning of a tone that had Dick shivering.

He wondered if that was how Tim said Bruce’s name when they were alone.

Bruce was now making no attempt to disguise his attention. Both hands were intertwined under his chin, his stare that had always been so unnerving, now encouraging Dick.

Fuck, Dick knew Bruce loved him.

Tim’s eyes were going half-lidded and Dick knew it wasn’t his imagination. The fat bottom lip that caught Dick’s attention more than once was bitten into with white teeth, worrying it between two canines. Dick watched, entranced at the sight.

Dick didn’t know how to say ‘have my baby, Timmy’ and still make it seem sexy.

So instead he lowered his mouth over Tim’s and swallowed his hum.

Dick had read a religious text once, years ago. He hadn’t remembered the context but he recalled the vague mishmash of words they formed. 

Of being born again and brought anew. 

Dick wasn’t one for religion but he swore, the feelings that flooded him at the initial press of Tim’s lips against his couldn’t be anything but holy .