Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Love is conditional, Tim learned from a young age. Jack and Janet would pick and choose when they wanted to be parents, and it was left up to Tim to earn their attention. With Bruce, Tim knew he had to be perfect to earn Robin, and stay that way to keep it.

Even after all these years, the sentiment stayed with Tim. Everything he has is built upon it.

And now, Tim is panicking. He’s already taken a long few weeks off, having just taken Pen in, and he’s stuck in a position of uncertainty. Would he lose touch with his family, if he laid off Robin?

That’s the question he rehearses in his head while waiting anxiously at Stephanie’s door. Tim thought she was the safest option, he trusts her to tell him the truth, and despite her initial impressions, she can be very insightful when the situation calls for it.

Hence, he stands with a bag of takeout, a sheepish look on his face because he showed up unannounced, “Tim?” Stephanie greets as she opens the door, then, “Ooh! Is that a peace offering?”

Tim smiles, “Hope you're hungry,” he remarks, finally stepping into her apartment and setting the food down, “Sorry, are you busy?”

“Not really,” she responds, scrutinizing him, “What’s wrong?”

Tim sighs, “You might wanna sit down,” Steph sits and inhales the Chinese food he brought while Tim recalls everything that happened with Pen, “I’m… scared,” he huffs finally, looking down.

“Tim,” Steph places a hand on his arm, and Tim looks up to see her serious face, “You’re gonna be a great dad. Plus, you have Dick, Jason, Bruce… hell, everyone will help,” she affirms, then adds upon his conflicted expression, “If they don’t, they’re gonna get an ass kicking.”

Tim exhales a laugh despite himself, but hesitates, “You don’t think they’d care if I stopped being Red Robin?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Of course they’d care,” she shakes her head, “but it wouldn’t change your relationship,” she finishes, much to Tim’s relief, “They care about you, not Red Robin.”

Somehow, those words are exactly what he needed to hear, even if he’s reluctant to believe them.

“Thanks, Steph,” he smiles at her.

“Always, wonder boy,” she responds, and they sit in that for a few seconds before she speaks again, “When can I meet Pen?” She demands, grinning.

Tim rolls his eyes, but his lips tilt up, “Whenever,” he responds, “I just don’t wanna overwhelm him, you know?”

Steph nods and stands up, “Alright,” she claps, “out of my house,” Tim squawks in mock offense when she starts pushing him towards the doorway.

“After I gave you food, too?” Tim pleads sadly, making sure Steph can see his over-exaggerated frown.

She rolls her eyes, shoving him into the complex’s hallway “Someone has homework to do,” she asserts, and finally shuts the door in his face.

Taking care of a traumatized twelve-year-old kid is actually a lot harder than Tim thought. Breaking the news to Pen was gut-wrenching - and even though Pen claimed he expected the death of his father, he’s seemed sad and closed off since.

Kon’s been a big help, of course, but helping Pen through his grief is a challenge.

Just recently, Pen mentioned his mom,

“My mom loved photography,” he told Tim quietly one night, holding the camera Tim managed to retrieve from his apartment, “she would let me use this camera to take pictures with her, and sometimes make Banh Xèo after,” he continued, smiling a little.

Banh Xèo, Tim learned, is a traditional Vietnamese dish — a savory crepe with shrimp, pork, and bean sprouts.

Of course, he had to make it for Pen. Just because Tim’s been surviving on microwave meals, Alfred, and protein bars for the past twenty two years doesn’t mean he can’t cook.

His first attempt, however, burnt horrendously, and they decided to order pizza instead. When Kon tried, he forgot to let the batter set and spray the pan, which only left them with a soggy and sticky mess.

Pen deserves the best Banh Xèo possible, so with Steph’s words in mind, Tim called up one of the only cooks he knows.

Jason.

“Whaddya want?” He answers Tim’s call the same as always, and Tim can hear the sound of crowded chatter in the background.

“Do you know how to make Banh Xèo?”

“Banh— what?” Jason asks, and when a muffled little kid's voice interrupts he says, “No ice cream till dinner.”

Tim furrows his eyebrows, “Who’s that?”

“Lian. Roy left her with me,” he explains, “what do ya want me to make?”

Tim smiles, a wonderful idea coming to mind, “You can bring Lian here if you want,” he offers, “I need your help to make Banh Xèo.”

There’s a pause, “I need to ask Roy,” he says finally, then— “And I’m not buying the ingredients.”

Tim silently celebrates, ending the call and walking to the dining room where Kon and Pen are playing uno — one of Kon’s numerous attempts to bond with the boy.

“Pen,” he calls, catching his attention, “My brother, Jason, might be coming to hang out for a few hours,” he says, “and he’s bringing a young girl named Lian with him. Is that okay with you?”

Pen takes a moment, then nods, and they play several rounds of uno until the doorbell rings.

“Got it,” Tim announces, and opening the door reveals his brother holding a bag of Girl Scout cookies and ice cream, and an innocent looking Lian next to him.

“Hey Lian,” Tim smiles, crouching down to her height to greet her, “How’s it going?”

“Good!” she responds, “Jay got me cookies and ice cream.”

Tim raises his eyebrows, looking at Jason, who only seems mildly embarrassed about the fact.

“After dinner, remember?” Jason reminds Lian, before moving past the doorway and towards the kitchen. Lian follows him, but not before taking off her shoes because she’s polite and Jason sucks.

Tim watches Jason stop abruptly when the dining table comes into view, frowning at the two occupants, “Who the f—“

“This,” Tim interrupts, sending him a look, “is Pen and my friend, Conner.”

“I’m Lian!” She introduces herself, “Can I play too?”

”We’d love that,” Kon replies, pulling out a chair, “have you played before?”

Lian climbs into her chair, “I love Uno,” she announces, and quickly launches into a story about playing with Roy.

Jason glares at Tim, stomping to the kitchen. Tim is pretty sure he means for Tim to follow, so he does, pulling out the ingredients for Banh Xèo quickly while Jason dumps the ice cream in the freezer.

Jason takes a deep breath when Tim offers to send him the recipe, taking his phone out and starting the batter.

“Who’s the kid?” Jason asks, plopping rice flour in the mixing bowl Tim bought just to make Banh Xèo.

“Pen Khau, eleven years old, parents deceased,” Tim spiels, almost automatically, before pausing. He contemplates his next words, deciding to give Jason a quick run down on how they met.

He runs through the events quickly, and Jay is about half way done with his batter when he’s done, “…he’s a good kid.” he finishes, “And he won’t be involved with the bats.”

Jason chuckles, shaking his head, “More than he already is?”

Tim frowns, “He’s not.” He crosses his arms, “And he won’t be.”

“If,” Jason starts, putting emphasis on the word, “you and your clone boyfriend don’t take care of him, I’ll steal ‘em myself.”

Tim takes a second to work through that — he ignores the boyfriend part, because they’re not dating, — and decides he’s saying, in his own Jason terms, that he’ll help out if asked. And, of course, that he will actually kidnap Pen if he’s anywhere near a Kevlar suit.

Tim just nods, “He’ll be safe.”

A nice moment passes, Jason quietly stirring the batter, while Tim listens to the sounds of playing in the other room.

“Jay!” Lian runs in, “We’re hungry,” she pouts, “When will it be ready?”

Jason raises an eyebrow, checking his non-existent watch, “Three hours.”

Lian gasps, “No!” she sounds out dramatically, clutching her stomach, “I need food…”

Tim smiles at her antics, “How about we have a snack?” he offers, because the batter usually does take three hours to set.

Lian perks up, “Can we?” Tim nods, and lists off all the food currently stocked in his pantry. Before Pen started staying with him, the options would probably be limited to protein bars or energy drinks, but Kon went to Costco (the one in Metropolis, because Gotham’s Costco blew up twenty years ago) and bought snacks.

Eventually Jason announces that he’ll make grilled cheeses to hold everyone over and shoos them out of the kitchen.

The next few hours consist of numerous board games, a couple of card games, and one movie. By the time the credits roll, the savory smell of Banh Xèo has flowed into the living room - along with Jay’s rustling in the kitchen -, and Tim moves towards Pen’s spot on the couch to wake him up.

“Hey,” Tim greets as Pen squints his eyes open, “Dinners ready,” he smiles down at him, and waits for him to stand up.

Pen takes a second, smelling the air, “Is that?..”

Tim nods, “Jason made Banh Xeo,” he responds, anticipating Pen’s reaction — watching him tense up, “Is — is that okay?” He asks, suddenly unsure.

Pen nods stiffly, hanging his head and silently walking to the kitchen. Tim frowns, but follows him. Taking the seat next to Pen, he shoots Jason a thankful smile, a chorus of ‘Thank you’ ‘s following his own.

Tim, watching Pen out of the corner of his eye, takes a bite out of the crispy Banh Xèo — it’s amazing, of course — and after about a minute or two of contemplating, Pen takes a bite too.

Immediately, his face turns sour. It’s minuscule, something an untrained person might not notice, but it’s clear to Tim that Pen doesn’t enjoy it the second he takes a bite. Tim debates saying something, but Jason speaks up first.

“That bad?” Jason tries for humor, but it falls flat when tears start to brim at the corner of Pen’s eyes.

“It-It—“ Pen cuts himself off with a cry, “It doesn’t…” he trails off, mumbling the last few words to himself and pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Tim was not expecting this. He blanks for a second on what to do, and when the crying gets worse, he wraps Pen in a hug, “It’s okay,” he reassures, rubbing soothing circles on his back, and hears Jason usher Lian out of the room.

After a few minutes, Pen pulls away and wipes at his nose. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking down, “It’s just…”

“You can tell me,” Tim urges, hand still on his shoulder.

Pen hesitates a little, but speaks again - more clearly this time, “It doesn’t taste like how my mom made it,” he utters, his eyes squeezing shut when he says it, “I miss her.”

Tim’s heart shatters. He knows exactly what Pen’s feeling right now, and he feels terrible for doing all of this without even asking for his opinion.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can say, opening his arms again. Pen takes the offer, sniffling into his arms.

They separate after a few minutes, and Tim only realizes how late it’s getting when he walks into the living room and sees Lian sleeping on her feet.

“Why don’t you go say bye to Lian?” he tells Pen, who nods and goes to bring her back to reality.

Turning his attention, he’s surprised to find Jason and Kon talking. They’ve met a few times, sure, but Tim’s not sure they ever really talked.

Silently tuning into the conversation, he hears the tail end of a threat spew from Jason’s mouth, and Kon looks like he’s trying to be unbothered, but Tim notices his bunched up muscles and face just a tad paler than usual.

“Seriously, Jay?” Both Kon and Jason turn their heads, Kon visibly relieved to see his face, “What did you say to him?” Tim shakes his head, walking between the two to lean just slightly on Kon and face Jay.

“I don’t know watcha mean,” Jason says, innocent as ever, raising an eyebrow.

Tim rolls his eyes, “You can’t shovel talk someone I’m not dating,” he speaks pointedly, because Jason did this with Bernard too.

“What?” Jason looks less like the picture of innocence and more incredulous, “Don’t lie. You literally have a kid together,” he crosses his arms, glancing at where Pen and Lian are sitting on the couch.

Tim frowns, looking at Kon, “We’re…” he hesitates, searching for a word, “..coparents.”

If Tim didn’t know any better, he’d say Kon looks disappointed, but the kryptonian just nods along. Right, Tim reminds himself, Kon isn’t even into guys.

Jason rolls his eyes, “If you say so,” he says, unbelieving, holding his hands up in an open palm gesture. He shoots Kon another glare before leaving to scoop Lian up, bidding Pen goodbye before leaving.

Once Pen got to bed, too, and it’s just Tim and Kon in the living space, Tim shoots Kon a devious smile, “I think he left the ice cream,” Kon raises his eyebrows, quickly disappearing and reappearing with a half-eaten tub of mint chocolate and two spoons.

The night ends like that, the two of them watching TV and sharing ice cream, and Tim finds himself wondering if they’ve already crossed the line of friendship. Maybe because he wants them to -- he almost thinks the night would’ve ended better with a kiss, but he shoves that thought away, curling into Kon’s side and drifting to sleep.

Chapter Text

Kon is in love with Tim. A year ago, he may have said the butterflies, warm feelings, and total, unadulterated trust between the two was purely platonic, but after some self-discovery and twelve months of yearning, he can admit his feelings.

In fact, Kon was working up to confessing a few weeks ago -- before Tim decided to adopt a small child, and all of Kon’s romantic plans to profess his undying love were halted.

He loves Pen and the excuse to be around Tim all the time, but he feels like they missed a step. Kon knows sleeping in the same bed and parenting a kid together isn’t usually how friendship goes, but he also thinks if Tim was romantically interested, he would’ve said something before.

He doesn’t want to ruin their relationship, either. He thinks Jason would literally kill him — not that he’s scared, or anything. He just wants to kiss Tim and for it to be normal.

Cuddling is the next best thing, though, so Kon settles, and decides to make it his personal mission to bond with Pen as much as possible.

And bringing him to the Kent’s farm is perfect for that. He can’t wait for them to shower Pen in all the affection and love he deserves.

Kon warns him before they leave, “They might be… overwhelming, at first,” Kon tells him, “They’re just happy about having another grandchild, okay?” He sends Pen a warm smile, and Pen smiles timidly back.

Kon is pretty sure Tim somehow managed to hide Pen from nearly all of his family before telling Jason, and he doesn’t quite understand why, but Kon himself told Ma and Pa only a few days after the fact, so there’s no surprises when they see his little face.

“My, you’re adorable!” Ma exclaims in her deep southern timbre the second she lays eyes upon Pen, “My name’s Martha, but you call me Ma,” she winks at the boy, pulling a seat out. Pen smiles politely, clearly out of his element.

This might even be Pen’s first time out of Gotham at all, Kon realizes, and he brought him to rural Kansas.

“It’s okay Pen, everyone calls her that,” Kon pats Pen’s shoulder, and he nods, sitting down.

“I’m Pen,” he introduces himself, a bit awkwardly, but all the more endearing. Soon, Pen has a cup of sweet tea and grilled cheese in front of him, and they’re all -- including Pa, who rolled into the kitchen a few minutes after they showed up -- gathered around the table, making conversation.

“Say, Kon, why don’t you help me out around the farm before Jon and his little friend show up?” Pa mentions, and Kon freezes.

“Which friend?” He asks, but he thinks he already knows.

“Oh, you know Damian,” Ma responds, shaking her head and laughing a little, “Who else?”

Kon resists the urge to groan, and excuses himself, “I need to make a call.”

Tim opted out of coming to the Kents, instead staying in Gotham to help his brother with a case, or something. He still picks up after one ring.

“I just heard,” Tim answers in lieu of a greeting, “You can handle it, right?”

Kon does not, in fact, think he can handle telling Damian, of all people, about their yet to be adopted son. The kid hates him enough as is.

“I can come over if you want me to,” Tim says after a pause, “I just— Ow!” He’s cut off, and Kon hears muffled brotherly squabbling for several moments before Tim starts back, “Sorry. Do I need to come?”

“Nah,” Kon finally says, resolutely, “Have fun.” He’d feel bad keeping Tim from seeing his family, especially after the past month they haven’t seen each other.

“Love you,” Tim says, then hangs up. Kon raises his eyebrows up in surprise.

Oh. He thinks, staring at his phone. Tim’s said I love you before, sure, but very far and few between, and, even then, he only said it fervently during or after life or death situations.

Kon mules it over, biting his lips, before he types out ‘Love you too’ to Tim and smashes send before he can convince himself not to.

Not a big deal, he tries to convince himself, shoving his phone back in his pocket and leaving to tell Pa he’s ready.

By the time he’s finished aroud the farm, he hears Damian and Jon outside before he sees them.

“You almost dropped me, fool!” Damian’s voice is loud enough to carry even without kryptonian ears, and Jon sounds like he’s about to cry.

“I’m sorry! It’s just, the bird, and—“

“You should be more than capable of handling a distraction as simple as a bird, Kent.”

“No!” Kon rounds the corner and actually sees Jon cry out in distress, probably at the prospect of being downgraded from first to last name.

Kon raises an eyebrow, holding in his laughter. If he had to guess, it’s probably the third time this week alone. Damian should get over it pretty quick, and it sounds like Jon really did almost drop him on the way over, so Kon doesn’t feel too bad.

His chuckle catches both of their attentions, Damian glares, but Jon looks up at him like he’s a savior sent from above.

“‘Sup,” he greets, “I thought I was Kent.”

Damian glares harder, “You are,” he turns his chin up, “Forget you heard anything.”

Kon looks over to Jon, who nods vigorously, so Kon decides to let them off the hook for now — knowing he’s pulled similar stunts of his own.

“Whatever,” he finalizes, shaking his head, “I need both of you to listen,” he says seriously, and the fifteen-year-olds stop quarreling to face him.

“There’s a nice kid in there—” he gestures vaguely to the house, “—and I want you both to be friendly with him.”

Predictably, Kon’s statement is responded to with a barrage of questions from the two, only some of which he can decipher, but he tries anyway.

“His name’s Pen, he’s twelve, and…” Kon hesitates to answer Damian’s ‘Where did you find this child?’ but ends on, “Me and Tim are taking care of him.”

Kon waves the responding questions off this time with, “You’ll see when you meet him.”

Damian and Jon have an animated conversation while they walk to the kitchen, one Kon doesn’t bother to keep up with, but he feels a burst of affection for the two.

After everything they’ve been through, he’s glad they found a friend in each other.

And, when they finally meet Pen face-to-face, it really hits how much the two have grown.
“Damian Al-Ghul Wayne,” the teen introduces himself proudly, holding his hand out for Pen to shake.

Pen blinks, uncertain, but shakes his hand, “Pen Khau,” he says back. Jon announces his name, too, and Kon watches in amazement as Jon ropes Pen into whatever Jon and Damian were planning to do when they arrived.

Kon nods his permission when Pen looks up at him in a silent question, and smiles while they run off. He thinks he shouldn’t be surprised, considering Jon’s personality, but he thought Damian would’ve scared Pen off, especially with the four-year age gap.

Apparently not. While Kon busies himself by helping Ma with dinner, sitting down to listen to his favorite band’s new album, and even helps with a low-tier alien in Metropolis over the next few hours - Pen spends the time following Damian and Jon around.

Damian — and Pen, apparently — are enablers for Jon’s weird, hyper ideas, and vice versa.

Pen ends up showing Kon something he drew, a rather oddly shaped cat named Wally. Still, Kon swears it’s the cutest thing he’s seen in ages, and he promises to hang it on their fridge at home.

Dinner is tasty and filled with chatter, but Kon finds himself wondering about Tim. He never responded to Kon’s message - but then, why would he?

Kon bites his lip, he knows it’s rude, but…

He pulls his phone out anyway, staring down at where it’s hidden under the table. He thinks his heart skips a beat when he sees it.

There, on the top left of Kon’s hastily typed ‘Love you’ is a heart. Tim reacted to his message with a heart.

He knows it’s stupid for it to make him feel as warm and fluffy as it does, but that doesn’t matter. This is the equivalent of a kiss on the lips in Tim language.

His smile is dopey, and Kon’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a few moments, unsure. He doesn’t think that requires a response, but what if Tim feels weird about it? Maybe Kon should try to reassure him…

His thoughts trail off, and he must look weird, because Jon is shaking his arm and asking, overconcerned, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Kon looks up, and reality comes back to him. God, love makes you stupid. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Jon furrows his eyebrows, glancing down at where Kon is still clasping his phone. His face lights up, and Kon hurries to turn it off, but it’s too late.

“You’re dating Tim!” He announces loudly, grinning at him. All eyes turn to him now, and Kon thinks he feels himself turn bright red. The most he can be grateful for right now is that nobody at the table is homophobic.

“Shut up,” he hisses, shoving him. Damian, next to Jon, glares at Kon like he’s the scum of the Earth.

“I have no conceptions as to why Timothy would date someone like you, Kent.” Damian glowers, holding his fork threateningly.

“You know that wouldn’t work on me right?” Kon points out, gesturing at the fork.

Ma cuts them off before anything escalates, “We are still at the table, boys,” she shakes her head, and Kon instantly feels embarrassed. He has a kid, for Rao’s sake, he cannot be arguing with a teenager.

“Now, you should know we support your relationship with Tim,” Ma says sweetly, and Kon smiles at her.

Kon doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but he has to, “We’re not dating…” he starts, “yet.”

Even Pen looks surprised. Kon looks down at his empty plate shamefully. He cannot fumble Tim, he thinks, he’d never get over it.

Damian rolls his eyes, “There is no sense in hiding your relationship with Timothy, we are all aware of your situation,” he says, looking pointedly towards Pen on the last word.

Jon frowns, too, “Yeah! There’s no way you haven’t kissed Tim before.”

“I’m working on it, okay?” Kon’s just about done with this conversation, and he does not think Pen needs to hear a single bit of it.

“Alright,” Pa interrupts, “Enough about your love life at the table.”

Kon silently thanks Pa for ending that conversation, and the two teens at the table reluctantly let go of the topic.

Kon still has to fly Pen back to Gotham, but before they leave, he makes Jon promise not to tell anyone — he tries to make Damian, too, but the kid’s too stubborn. Kon doesn’t really think he’ll spill about Pen, though, so he leaves it alone.

Tim is waiting for them when they get home, and even though Pen looks ready to pass out, he takes a few minutes to share his day with Tim.

Soon after, Tim is leaning against Kon’s shoulder in bed, having just finished telling him about his own day, and there’s peaceful silence.

Kon stares down at him, watching his eyelashes flutter every time he blinks, and notices how Tim’s hair is slightly more overgrown than Red Robin kept it. Something about it being a ‘security risk’. Kon loves the way it flows, framing his face, the way each tuft curls just slightly near the end.

Tim looks up, and their eyes meet. Kon feels like Tim’s dark blue irises are swallowing him whole.
He leans forward, his hand settling on Tim’s jaw, and their lips don’t quite touch, but the feeling is intimate. Tim closes his eyes, his forehead resting on Kon’s, and he feels Tim’s hand on the back of his neck, his thumb rubbing circles into his skin.

They stay like that for a few moments, where he can feel every time Tim exhales, their breaths mingling together, and Kon hesitates.

Presses closer.

The feel of his lips, his taste, soothes the part of Kon that had been craving this moment for years. Any tension Kon was holding, anything outside of Tim, dissipates when they’re this close.

Tim’s the first to pull away, “Kon,” he fills the silence, “Do you…” he pauses, chewing on his lip, then reaches to wrap his hand around Kon’s own, “..want this?”

Kon smiles softly, “I’ve wanted this for years, Tim,” he promises, squeezing his hand, “I love you.”

Tim gapes at him for a few seconds, unmoving — and Kon is beginning to be concerned — when Tim breaks out into a hearty smile and all but jumps to wrap his arms around Kon, squeezing him as tight as possible, “I love you too.”

—-

Tim has officially called a family meeting. In other words, yesterday he texted the group chat to meet around this time in the living room.

Tim’s thirty minutes early, tweaking his presentation. Lots of meetings concerning the bats have been held, but fewer concerning their civilian lives. There was the one time Damian insisted on the meeting to investigate who, exactly, had been eating Titus’ food — revealing he fed Titus eggs and chicken the majority of the time — which Alfred evidently had used for dinner.

Another example, Bruce tried to stop an unnamed perpetrator from glitter-fying his suit continually -- this had turned out to be a combined effort of Stephanie and eventually Jason encouraging whoever’s currently mad at Bruce to ‘try glitter!’

Unproductive, to say the least.

Nonetheless, these meetings are a good way to gather (mostly) everyone in one place. Tim informed Jason, Steph, and Damian they can skip out on this one.

Eventually, Dick walls in, presumably having just picked Damian up — the boy follows in shortly after, donning his school uniform.

Dick shoots him a smile, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Dick,” Tim greets, “Damian,” he adds, nodding his head.

“Timothy,” he acknowledges, then swiftly turns to trudge upstairs.

“Damian?” Dick’s voice slows him down, “Where are you going, buddy?”

Damian swings around, rolling his eyes, “I am aware of Timothy’s announcement, and therefore my presence isn’t required,” he explains, like common knowledge, and Dick furrows his eyebrows.

“What?” his eyes shift towards Tim, “You told Damian before me?” his face looks hurt, even, when he says it, and Tim feels just a smidgen bad.

“Sorry,” Tim grimaces, “that wasn’t intentional,” he explains, watching Damian leave the room.

Dick flops on the couch, spreading out like a starfish and huffing, “Now I need to know.”

He tries to interrogate and bicker with Tim for the next few minutes, before Stephanie’s laughter echoing from the other room is heard.

She walks in with Cass, sporting a strawberry milkshake.

“You’re glowing today, Tim,” she says, a grin etched on her face.

Dick gasps, sitting up, “You’re pregnant?” He gapes at him in a — surprisingly believable — mock expression of surprise.

Tim raises his eyebrows, “Yes,” he confirms, and they stay on the subject of potential baby names until Duke and Bruce are crowding the room, too, and Alfred has just set some snacks on the table.

Tim tries to quell the anxiety settling, glancing at Steph, who gives him a reassuring nod from her spot on the couch.

“Okay,” Tim mutters, letting out a long drawn out breath, and connects his Google Slide presentation to the TV.

“No questions till the end,” he starts, and proceeds to explain Pen’s arrival, details the benefits of laying off Red Robin, and the process of introducing Pen as part of the family. They stay dutifully quiet for the most part, save for a few surprised exclamations and witty comments.

“Please don’t hate me,” Tim says finally, signaling the end of his presentation.

Dick springs up to wrap his arms around Tim, squeezing him tightly — the same way Tim’s seen him squeeze puppies. He can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed, melting into the hug.

“Of course we don’t hate you, baby bird,” he heartens, loosening his hold to look him in the eye.

Tim stares back up at him, hair mused from being pushed around, “You sure?” he urges, mostly joking.

Cass chimes in, suddenly behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder, “We’re proud of you,” she says, so sincere that Tim wants to cry.

“Dang,” Duke moves to get up, stretching his arms out, “How’d none of us know till now?” Valid question, Tim thinks, but he’s hidden bigger things from his family for longer.

“I knew!” Stephanie pipes up proudly, “Still haven’t met the kid, though,” she adds pointedly, glancing towards Tim.

Dick gasps, “I need to meet him,” he announces, “Tim.”

Tim smiles, realizing that — so far — this is the best case-scenario he could’ve thought up. He makes a few promises about bringing Pen over next time, especially when Alfred, not so much asks, but tells him to.

Moreover, when they’re all leaving the living room because Alfred claimed a delicious lunch, Bruce places a hand on his shoulder to stop him in the hallway.

“I’m glad you told us, Tim,” he speaks, and Tim feels a little shocked at the show of affection, which is immediately ruined by, “You should consider exploring your options with dating before you settle with… Superboy.”

Tim resists the urge to roll his eyes, opting to say, “Give him a chance, B. He already loves Pen just as much as me.”

Bruce furrows his eyebrows, “Okay,” he admits, “if you think that’s best.”

And, at the end of the day, Tim sleeps a little better knowing everyone’s support. He doesn’t know why he doubted it.