Ineffable Husbands Lover

this is, i think, the reason that they work so well with kevin. in my honest opinion i think kevin would be aromantic acespec, that man would cringe at anything and everything catered to allo people. valentines day, anniverseries, PDA, all that jazz would be just like, ew. no. he has a one track mind and it only focuses on exy or andreil. it doesnt make what they have any less significant, but it would be FARRRR out of any allo person's understanding from an outsider pov

i'd imagine that the foxes probably think kevins just some sucker lost puppy typa thing, following after andreil 24/7. they dont know hes literally the stitching that holds them together, like, he IS the thread, he is the condition.

or Andrew slowly begins to notice that the new quiet kid always sports new bruises

Starting with Steph because I was thinking about her

(Yes I know she was 17/18 when she was Robin but now she’s 12, your welcome)

__

Steph(climbing through the master bedroom window): B, Bruce, batsy, by-product of my bullshit

Bruce(grumbling):

Steph: B I’m bleeding

Bruce(sitting up quicker than he’s ever sat up before): !

Steph(sitting on the edge of the bed): hi, I’m on my period and my dearest mother is to high to help, so.. this is your problem

Bruce(picking her up): I beg of you start with the fact that you aren’t dying next time

Steph: no

__

But Bruce in this au is not part of the Justice League. He stays very separate from them actually, because he doesn’t want to these wildcard heroes anywhere near his kids. Plus, most people outside Gotham think Robin is just a myth.

Until one day when Batman and Robin make national news for something that happened in Gotham, and now everyone knows Robin is real and also a child who’s been doing this for several years now.

The JL decides they absolutely have to save Robin from what is clearly some sort of child soldier situation. But they do their research, they use all their resources to one night follow Batman and Robin back to their cave.

And when Superman first appears, Dick is ecstatic. He thinks Bruce must’ve finally decided to contact the other heroes, and of course he started with Superman, he knows Superman is Dick’s favorite. It must’ve been so hard for Bruce to keep this a surprise for Dick, he’s terrible at keeping surprises.

But then Dick sees the look on Bruce’s face, and even though not much is shown through the cowl, Dick knows Bruce didn’t plan this. And the giddy excited feeling Dick just had plummets to dread.

Then the rest of the JL follow behind Superman, and Dick’s heart sinks while also beating so fast it hurts.

“Take your brother and go upstairs,” Bruce says, leaving no room for argument. “Now!”

Damian was down in the cave because Dick was going to teach him some tumbling, and they were playing superhero with Damian wearing a tiny little domino mask. But when Dick scoops him up to make his way upstairs, the JL members all look even more livid.

“You’re forcing another child soldier into your crusade?” Superman accuses him.

There’s shouting and accusations and angry superheroes filling the Batcave.

“What are they talking about?” Dick asks, his voice wavering.

“Go upstairs, Robin!”

Dick tries to run up to the manor with Damian, but fighting starts, and they’re both so worried about Bruce. Because why are these superheroes trying to hurt their dad? Why are they so angry?

Dick and Damian end up getting boxed in by several heroes, and Damian gets more and more distressed as the shouting gets louder. Dick tries to fight off the other heroes, but it’s hard when you’re fighting several adults with superpowers and you’re a normal eleven year old with a four year old clinging to you.

They end all getting taken to the JL headquarters. Do they still have the Watchtower if they don’t have Bruce’s money backing them? Maybe they use Oliver’s, idk. But Bruce gets locked up and interrogated while Dick and Damian get put in a tiny little room that’s probably supposed to be comforting. It’s terrifying, especially if they realize they’re in space.

Dick does his best to keep Damian calm, but he’s eleven and he’s scared, too. At least the JL has let them keep their masks on.

“So who’s your little friend there, Robin?” Black Canary asks, and Dick scoffs at her.

“My brother,” he says, a frown on his face.

“What’s his name?”

“Baby Bat.”

“That’s his real name?”

“I’m not telling you his real name!” Dick scoffs at her, tucking Damian closer to him. “Do you think I’m stupid? What did you do with Batman?”

“You don’t need to worry about Batman anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” Dick tries not to shout, because he doesn’t want to scare Damian.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, Robin.”

“What are you talking about?” Dick asks, trying not to panic. “What did you do to my dad?”

Black Canary doesn’t answer, her face freezing.

The JL does eventually realize they fucked up, but it takes a while. Basically, Dick and Damian become Louise from that episode of Bob’s Burgers:

It'd be funny if they assumed Bats has several baby daddies and then ask if he's at least getting child support

Like most of his rogues are alphas and betas surely they'd be angry an omega was abandoned with so many children

And there's Superman being "I'm the father that stepped up"

But Bruce in this au is not part of the Justice League. He stays very separate from them actually, because he doesn’t want to these wildcard heroes anywhere near his kids. Plus, most people outside Gotham think Robin is just a myth.

Until one day when Batman and Robin make national news for something that happened in Gotham, and now everyone knows Robin is real and also a child who’s been doing this for several years now.

The JL decides they absolutely have to save Robin from what is clearly some sort of child soldier situation. But they do their research, they use all their resources to one night follow Batman and Robin back to their cave.

And when Superman first appears, Dick is ecstatic. He thinks Bruce must’ve finally decided to contact the other heroes, and of course he started with Superman, he knows Superman is Dick’s favorite. It must’ve been so hard for Bruce to keep this a surprise for Dick, he’s terrible at keeping surprises.

But then Dick sees the look on Bruce’s face, and even though not much is shown through the cowl, Dick knows Bruce didn’t plan this. And the giddy excited feeling Dick just had plummets to dread.

Then the rest of the JL follow behind Superman, and Dick’s heart sinks while also beating so fast it hurts.

“Take your brother and go upstairs,” Bruce says, leaving no room for argument. “Now!”

Damian was down in the cave because Dick was going to teach him some tumbling, and they were playing superhero with Damian wearing a tiny little domino mask. But when Dick scoops him up to make his way upstairs, the JL members all look even more livid.

“You’re forcing another child soldier into your crusade?” Superman accuses him.

There’s shouting and accusations and angry superheroes filling the Batcave.

“What are they talking about?” Dick asks, his voice wavering.

“Go upstairs, Robin!”

Dick tries to run up to the manor with Damian, but fighting starts, and they’re both so worried about Bruce. Because why are these superheroes trying to hurt their dad? Why are they so angry?

Dick and Damian end up getting boxed in by several heroes, and Damian gets more and more distressed as the shouting gets louder. Dick tries to fight off the other heroes, but it’s hard when you’re fighting several adults with superpowers and you’re a normal eleven year old with a four year old clinging to you.

They end all getting taken to the JL headquarters. Do they still have the Watchtower if they don’t have Bruce’s money backing them? Maybe they use Oliver’s, idk. But Bruce gets locked up and interrogated while Dick and Damian get put in a tiny little room that’s probably supposed to be comforting. It’s terrifying, especially if they realize they’re in space.

Dick does his best to keep Damian calm, but he’s eleven and he’s scared, too. At least the JL has let them keep their masks on.

“So who’s your little friend there, Robin?” Black Canary asks, and Dick scoffs at her.

“My brother,” he says, a frown on his face.

“What’s his name?”

“Baby Bat.”

“That’s his real name?”

“I’m not telling you his real name!” Dick scoffs at her, tucking Damian closer to him. “Do you think I’m stupid? What did you do with Batman?”

“You don’t need to worry about Batman anymore.”

“What did you do to him?” Dick tries not to shout, because he doesn’t want to scare Damian.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, Robin.”

“What are you talking about?” Dick asks, trying not to panic. “What did you do to my dad?”

Black Canary doesn’t answer, her face freezing.

The JL does eventually realize they fucked up, but it takes a while. Basically, Dick and Damian become Louise from that episode of Bob’s Burgers:

Plot: AU! Clark is visually impaired and has a service dog named Krypto. They are a regular at a particular coffee shop during Thursdays. The moment Bruce landed his eyes on Clark, something sparked.

But shit, Bruce is severely allergic to dogs.

Me about Alfred and Leslie to the batfam fandom.

Because people love to criticize Bruce and then turn around to say that "Alfred is a saint". Really? Because Bruce's issues, his terrible mental health and his difficulty to open up to others, are the result of his education. He was 8 years old, it was not his responsibility to take himself to therapy to deal with the trauma, it was not his responsibility to teach himself how to heal and accept to love others. And, yes, now that he is an adult, it's his responsibility to heal, but when he was a child, it was his guardians'.

So, here it is, the post explaining how Leslie and Alfred fucked up Bruce.

omg THANK you- finally someone who acknowledges the fact that Bruce is, by all intents and purposes, a cycle-breaker

Alfred is a great grandfather if you want to argue that- sure, fine- idc. But he is not a good father. He is cold and detached and DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE A TRAUMATIZED CHILD!!!!

There's scenes when he's over critical of Bruce's raising of Dick or Jason or Tim- when Bruce understands what they are going through and is, by all intentions, raising them correctly based on the trauma they have faced.

Alfred is not a good father and its his fault that Bruce is not good at communicating with his children and it pisses me off so badly when he dares to judge how Bruce handles his children because hes the one who taught him that behavior

This fact does not stop me from indulging in thoughts of these two being less than stellar parents. This does not mean that they weren’t ‘good people’, just that they didn’t know how to take care of a child. Especially a child like Bruce.

Realistically (even though nothing in the DC universe is realistic), it’s not out of the ordinary for rich people to not be that involved in their child’s life before they become useful to them and society. I’m sure they loved him, but whether or not they showed it is the question.

I read this fanfiction where Thomas used physical punishments on Bruce when he was a child, and Alfred (being an old, white, British man) did in fact condone it.

(Fanfic on Ao3- Not Always Kind by: IG33Y)

It’s not out of this world to believe that they could do this. Yes, they’re good people, but they’re also wildly out of touch with normal people due to how rich they are. And back in the day, physical discipline was more commonly accepted, or at least not discouraged.

It wouldn’t be considered physical and emotional abuse back then, especially in the rich circles where they ran.

You can look at it from an outside perspective and understand that what they’re doing is bad, but back then, it was probably just touching the line of ‘a little too much’ and nothing more.

If we add the very popular headcannon that Bruce is indeed autistic, it would factor into the discipline that Bruce could face from his father.

In my brain, Bruce inherited his autism from his mother, while his father is allistic.

Martha is a grown woman and has had a lot of time to carefully craft a perfect mask for her to use. Back then, and even now, being autistic was not seen as a good thing.

I believe Thomas would have been an open thinker, but sometimes you can’t help the way that you’re raised and how all of society, not just in Gotham, thinks bout autistic people. I don’t think Martha would ever fully unmask in Wayne Manor; it felt too dangerous. She might take down most of her obvious ones, but never fully, very often.

She loves Thomas, and he loves her completely, but they both believe that some things are better off buried forever.

Bruce is a child and doesn’t understand why everyone treats him badly for being different, making him 'act up’ even more. Thomas is a good man, and he wants people to know that he’s a good man; he can’t have his son ruining the Wayne reputation.

I think they truly believe that what they’re doing is good for Bruce and is helping him in the long run.

And Bruce has many complicated feelings surrounding his parents; those feelings are only exacerbated by the fact that they died so violently and in front of him.

If they were not the best parents, Bruce would feel guilty for even thinking about them in a bad light. And with how the media covered it, trying to say anything that contradicts how people perceive these rare, good, rich people would be social suicide.

I also think Bruce would have a lot of personal guilt when it comes down to it. He would be hesitant to even share a single bad thing that happened between him and his parents, and if he were, I have no doubt that Bruce would somehow twist the memory in favor of his parents and portray himself (a child) as being in the wrong.

While the kids will spout out a million times that Bruce is not their Dad (usually when they have a fight with him), they probably view these two as their Grandparents.

And with the help of the media, Bruce, Alfred, and literally everyone in the world would truly believe that Thomas and Martha are saints and died as such. Bruce would want to keep this illusion alive for them. Maybe if his kids believe it, he could, too.

I also like to believe that they were young parents and had Bruce when they were in their mid to late 20s. Bruce excuses everything they did by saying they were inexperienced and young (not giving himself the same grace).

Bruce would feel guilty for having any negative thoughts about them, telling himself that he’s tainting their memory and he shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.

A lot of the time, I see people write that Bruce’s mentors believe that he had a great darkness and evil inside of him. With this, I’m led to believe that Bruce believes that he at the very least deserved to be ‘abused’ (he doesn’t see it as abuse) and that his punishment for being an evil child was to see his parents' deaths.

I’m pretty sure it’s canon in every iteration, or I think it should be, that Bruce blames his parents' death solely on himself since he wanted to go to the movies for his birthday. This would only solidify in Bruce’s mind that he was the one reason his parents were taken from the world, further leading him to excuse every action that they did.

Just like in the fanfiction, I believe that Alfred would have condoned this kind of behavior. He seems like the type to believe that physical discipline is good parenting and a must to rein in your more rowdy children. And even if he didn’t, he was the help; there was nothing that he could do.

While Martha and Thomas would never, if Alfred ever took his concerns to the police, then they could simply make it go away, and Alfred as well.

Alfred is a very strict man who has a bountiful collection of flaws that the fandom and even comic writers decidedly ignore. There is a line drawn in the sand by Alfred himself that stops their relationship from developing further.

Bruce and Alfred may see each other as family, due to the lack of anyone else ever being there for Bruce in his childhood, but Alfred actively pushes the narrative that he is only the Wayne butler and that he cannot have a deeper kind of relationship with Bruce. His words are contradicted by his actions, but hearing that constantly from the only adult around you must have been mentally taxing.

Now, I don’t really know anything about Leslie and the few fanfictions that she shows up in (very, very, very few), but she is always portrayed as Bruce’s maternal figure, just like Alfred is his paternal figure.

Already in those fanfictions, she is written very no-nonsense and straight-edged, just like Alfred is mostly written.

Then I read this post, and I just… it seems like every adult in Bruce’s life failed him as a child and then made him feel as though it was solely his fault as an adult

A lot of the time, especially on AO3, people only tag ‘Alfred Pennyworth is not a Saint’ when they’re already ragging on Bruce. It’s as if the two must go hand in hand, like Alfred is only a bad person when Bruce is a bad person, and that’s only half of the time. Most of the time, Alfred isn’t mentioned at all, or even if he is, he is still seen as this overarching power and wonderful person by everyone in the universe

I’m not saying Alfred is a bad person, but I’m not saying he’s the best person in the entire world. Which is never shown in fanfiction unless it's an AU where they take it over the top and Bruce and Alfred are actively trying to kill the kids or something wildly out of character.

It seems as though people use Alfred solely to pick on Bruce and point out the flaws in him. They write Alfred as this higher authority who is all-knowing in parenting and is always right, no matter what. It’s very tiring.

And even then when they do write that Alfred is not a saint it’s more because he’s a passive observer of Bruce’s and that’s his only fault, not that he is also a perpetrator. Which, I think is not enough. Either Alfred is the good grandpa who fixes everything or he’s the bad guy who stays silent.

Whilst indulging in the thoughts of Thomas and Martha not being the best, I think Alfred would be heavily on their side because he was hired by them. It’s his entire livelihood, and he’s not going to stand up to his employers just because they treat their son a little less than ideally in his eyes.

This also makes me want to indulge in thoughts of Alfred not actually being all that close to the Waynes.

Sure, I like reading PennyWayne fanfictions as much as the next person, but I think it would be interesting if Alfred actually wasn’t that close to the family, or was close to Thomas and Martha but didn’t really care for young Bruce.

Whether purposefully or intentionally, depending on which scenario you take, Alfred could have been manipulating young Bruce into believing that his parents were better people than they actually were.

I’ve always believed that Bruce doesn’t remember every single detail of that night correctly, which makes a lot of sense because it was incredibly traumatizing, and he was so young.

My personal headcannon is that it wasn’t Martha’s pearl necklace that he saw scattered across the pavement in the alleyway. Everyone knows authentic pearls are strung together individually, so if the string breaks, the pearls won’t spill onto the ground.

I think Martha was shot in the face that night. Instead of it being her pearls, it was actually her teeth being exploded from her face and falling directly in front of Bruce, but he just couldn't comprehend it. Bruce’s brain tweaked the memory so it was slightly less traumatic, and he wouldn’t snap completely.

Me about Alfred and Leslie to the batfam fandom.

Because people love to criticize Bruce and then turn around to say that "Alfred is a saint". Really? Because Bruce's issues, his terrible mental health and his difficulty to open up to others, are the result of his education. He was 8 years old, it was not his responsibility to take himself to therapy to deal with the trauma, it was not his responsibility to teach himself how to heal and accept to love others. And, yes, now that he is an adult, it's his responsibility to heal, but when he was a child, it was his guardians'.

So, here it is, the post explaining how Leslie and Alfred fucked up Bruce.

omg THANK you- finally someone who acknowledges the fact that Bruce is, by all intents and purposes, a cycle-breaker

Alfred is a great grandfather if you want to argue that- sure, fine- idc. But he is not a good father. He is cold and detached and DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE A TRAUMATIZED CHILD!!!!

There's scenes when he's over critical of Bruce's raising of Dick or Jason or Tim- when Bruce understands what they are going through and is, by all intentions, raising them correctly based on the trauma they have faced.

Alfred is not a good father and its his fault that Bruce is not good at communicating with his children and it pisses me off so badly when he dares to judge how Bruce handles his children because hes the one who taught him that behavior

Okay that- but with Bruce and his kids

And his kids just start getting increasingly more concerned when Bruce answers bare minimum for everything

The first time it’s funny, right- haha, Bruce, you fool, now I get to dunk your head in ice water because you think letting me fall asleep on top of you right before patrol knowingly to stop you from going out is bare minimum when in fact it’s princess treatment lol

But then it gets increasingly worrisome. 

The kids abandon the list, naming more and more absurd things they’ve done, or have watched Bruce let them do and they start getting concerned

Because is there anything Bruce wouldn't give them?

Steph: me, cass, barbara, ivy, lois, selina, and harley are all getting our hair and nails done and I need your credit card.  Bruce: of course, bare minimum, my girls get what they want.  Dick: you’ll pay an all expenses trip for me and the entirety of Young Justice anywhere we want in the world for a whole month and I don’t have to tell you anything about what we do or where we are? Bruce: as long as you stay safe, chum, I know you trust them and that’s great! Bonding trips are always fun, money is no problem. Bare minimum. Tim: you’d give me the Manor and move out because it’s the first real home I’ve had? Bruce: bare minimum, of course sweetheart, my bags are packed, i can sign it over to you in a second, once we finish playing.  Jason: letting me use you as a personal shield and then taking your blood because i have a flesh wound and need some more Bruce: *scoffs* of course! My cape is bullet proof and I will always shield you. My blood is your blood, we’re family. Bare minimum.

Listen, I ran out of really like desperate things they should ask him but you get the gist right?

He and Clark have an interview at a restaurant? Bam Steph is the waitress and she is watching you Clark with a bracelet made of kryptonite. 

He’s going on an opera date with Selina? Suddenly Stephanie can sing perfect soprano and is watching them while belting out a gorgeous duet. 

He has to team up with Wonder Woman and Flash for an off world mission? Suddenly she’s a pilot and will be flying them today, thank you for choosing Spoiler Airlines. 

Just Steph being stupidly protective of Bruce and him having no clue why because he thought??? She hated him??? 

THEY SCREAM WITH IDEAS

SO I SHALL PLUCK ONE OUT AND GIVE TO U

Bruce gets Magic-ed to make others be able to feel his emotions if they make skin to skin contact

He does a bunch of tests to see if he's safe to be around since doesn't know the exact spell he got hit by and eventually Z gives him the green light to head back home

He gets out of his suit and the rest depends on the first batkid that he runs into

Just really want them to be able to feel the love, pride, worry, and fondness he's terrible at expressing (and them [un]subtlety trying to feel his emotions towards them again)

URGH NOOO!!!

Because this could go so many ways... fuck

Zatanna waved the stick around his face one last time, almost colliding with his nose, and Bruce did his best not to flinch. "Its called a wand." She growled under her breath, as though hearing his thoughts, but Bruce wasn't much interested in what the damned thing was called.

He knew she was being so careless on purpose, maybe even hoping she'd accidentally give him a good whack, but Bruce wasn't taking any chances bringing home some dangerous magical curse, so she would do her scans as many times until he was satisfied.

"There." She huffed, sacking back into her chair, and offered him a bland smile. "Completely harmless. I told you Bruce. The only thing this weird ass "curse" can do is warmth." Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow, as he had done when she'd first told him.

"Warmth?" He echoed hollowly, doubtful still. Zatanna rolled her eyes, smacking a hand to his forearm. Immediately, Bruce felt his blood buzz under his skin, forearms tightening. Zatanna let out a little sigh, smiling at him faintly, but it was more sincere than before.

"Yep!" She popped the p and stood, suddenly more energized. "Just passes over some warmth." Her smile didn't seem all too truthfully, but Bruce doubted her sudden good mood would last if he demanded another check.

"Alright." He sighed, finally standing, and Zatanna tapped him fondly on his chest.

"Just because you have seen the bad consequences of magic does not mean it can't be good." She murmured. "And this is a good one!" She grinned, smile almost too wide. Too mischievous. Bruce's eyes narrowed. He'd seen the expression one too many times on his children's faces to not be wary. "It's been cold in Gotham recently, maybe this will be a blessing for your home." Zatanna distracted innocently, opening the door to impolitely tell him to leave.

"Hn." Bruce hummed back, slipping his cowl back over his head, his gloves following. "Thank you Z." Her smile softened as she leaned against the door, though her eyes still sparkled in the dim glow of the streetlights.

"Anytime B. It should wear off in a few days. Until then, enjoy it." And the door was closed in his face. Bruce huffed in amusement, tugging out his grapple gun and swinging towards the Manor.

"Oracle?" He clicked his back teeth, coms activating. "Am I all clear to head home?" Barbara hummed back confirmation, the familiar and soothing sound of her typing quickly filling his ears.

"Yeah- hey can you swing by quickly? There's a package for Dick and I won't see him until later, I'd rather he get it now." Bruce rolled his eyes but obediently switched routes, running along the familiar roofs that led to the Clock Tower.

"I'm not an errand boy for y'alls love letters you know." He grumbled, even as he undid the hatch and slipped inside the slightly warmer confines of their communication tower.

Barbara grinned at him from the computer, spinning in her wheelchair to roll over to the couch and grab a small rectangular package. "Long day today or why am I being greeted by the Gotham "y'all"?"

Bruce rolled his eyes again, accepting the small parcel and wedging it under his arm. "Hilarious." He grumbled, leaning forward to capture Babs in a quick hug.

She started at the sudden embrace, but quickly relaxed, arms circling around his waist in a known fashion. "Any particular reason?" Her voice was muffled by his suit, but Bruce heard her anyway.

He shrugged, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head before pulling away. Babs blinked, dazed, her hands fluttering near her head for a second, and she regarded him oddly.

"Just missing my kids." He murmured, one leg already out the window again. Barbara waggled her finger in his direction, already over her momentary lack of composure that Bruce wasn't quite sure where it originated from.

"Haven't adopted me yet!" She cried, faux dramatics and outrage. Bruce just lifted the package in response.

"If he doesn't hurry I will." It was an empty threat, seeing as both Barbara was already a legal adult and had a father of her own, but the emotion behind it was all that mattered. Barbara laughed, waving him away.

"Good night B." He smiled, slipping back into the night. His pace to the Manor increased, as Zatanna was right, it had grown exponentially chilly recently, and it was only a few minutes before he'd reached the cave and slipped inside.

"B-man!" Bruce almost jumped, almost, but the subtle flinch was enough to send Stephanie to the floor, cackling with laughter. "OH that's my best moment yet!" She cheered from the floor, grinning up at him as he loomed over her, glowering.

"Good evening." She greeted, sticking her hand up as though to shake, or ask to stand. Bruce rolled his eyes and ignored both, side stepping the child on the floor to place the package for Dick on the bat-table.

Steph sighed dramatically from where she lay on the ground, and shuffled her feet so that she was at a better angle to look at him. "Rough day today huh Boss?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he slipped off his cowl, depositing it onto the table as well. "Why are you here Stephanie?" Steph pouted, even going so far as to cross her arms.

"Sick of me already are we?" There was distinct teasing in her tone, but enough vulnerability that Bruce didn't immediately agree. Instead he rolled his eyes again, pretending he hadn't heard the moment of weakness.

"Stephanie I'm afraid you've grown on me. Like a tumor." He deadpanned instead, spinning in his chair once before smacking his feet to the ground to halt it, and leveled a hard look at her. "In order for me to be sick of you, I'd have to remove a piece of myself."

Steph laughed, and if her voice was a little scratchy he ignored that too. She lunged to her feet, using the trick Dick had taught all Robins at some point, and Bruce turned back to the computer as she draped herself across the back of his chair.

She and Dick scared him, sometimes, with their utter lack of bones. They were both limber to an incredible degree, and having lived under Selina's guidance for over a year, Steph was very much catlike in her movements, currently arching her back as she lolled over his chair. Bruce didn't even want to know how she managed to stay balanced.

"Bring me anything fun from patrol?" she asked after a few seconds of silence as Bruce filled out the usual after-patrol forms. He glanced at her, unimpressed. "From patrol?" He repeated, playing dumb.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Boss. Don't play dumb. Did anyone have anything fun?" Bruce rolled his eyes(if he did it any more he feared they'd fall out of his head), returning his attention to his spreadsheet.

"You know my stance on taking things from the people of Gotham." Steph scoffed, rolling off the chair and instead taking a seat on the table, lounging across it.

"They're criminals." She pointed out, like they hadn't had variations of this conversation almost once a week since he'd met her.

Bruce sent her an unimpressed look. "By most people's standards, so are we." he pointed out, his usual argument. Steph rolled her eyes, dropping down onto the table, effectively cutting off his access to typing.

"Can we just skip the fight today and go to what you got me?" She asked hopefully, smiling up at him. Bruce frowned at her, tugging his hands back from where she'd flopping on top of them. Her smile widened.

Bruce sighed, tugging off his gloves, and reached into one of his pockets. Steph squealed, sitting up, hands out expectantly.

"This doesn't mean I took it from anyone." He warned. Steph chuckled. "Ok old man- ya bought it. Fair and square. I got it. But you still got something for me!" He had no counter for that, so he reluctantly handed over the small gadget he'd purchased a few days ago when he'd been window shopping with Harley.

Steph stared at the small wad of black fabric, her face lighting up as she unveiled its contents. "Lock picks?" She gasped, looking at him with pure delight. Bruce nodded the affirmative.

"State of the art. I know your old ones are-" Before he could explain his observation and why he'd bought the little treasure for her(a remnant of their Batman and Robin days when she'd dropped little trinkets into the pockets that she'd stolen from criminals they'd apprehended and he started returning the gesture with his own gifts) her arms were around his neck in a hug.

Bruce startled in surprise, and his blood buzzed as her arms came into direct contact with his skin, but hugged her back. Before he had fully wrapped his arms around her though, Steph flinched back, eyes wide.

"What was that." She whispered, breathless, hand clasped tightly around his gift. Bruce frowned, before he realized what she was asking.

"Apologies for not informing you." Bruce apologized. "It's why I was home so late, Zatanna was checking it was nonlethal. I was hit with a spell that makes me exude warmth when I come into direct contact with someone." He explained. Stephanie's eyes narrowed at him.

"Is that what you'd call it?" She muttered, eyes dancing around nervously. Bruce frowned, hand reaching to touch his neck where she'd touched.

"Is.. everything alright? That's what Zatanna said it did.." he repeated doubtfully.

Steph let out a humorless laugh. "Of course she did. Fu-" Bruce sent her a warning look. "Frickin witch." Steph hastened. He nodded, a small smile curling his lips.

"Well, what did you feel?" Bruce asked, curious now. Steph hesitated, hands bunching her shirt.

"i- uh. I felt. Warm." She whispered. "Yeah... I guess. I guess I did feel warm." A small smile tugged her lips. "Zatanna was right. It does provide warmth to whoever touches you Bruce. You provide warmth."

Bruce frowned at the strange phrasing, and the sudden agreement with Zatanna when she'd previously been so vehemently against it, but as Stephanie hesitantly curled up again in his arms, muttering a thank you for her new lock picks, Bruce decided the issues wasn't worth pushing. Not so long as it wasn't bringing her any harm.

Steph was still there when Tim finally entered the cave, footsteps audible on the uneven steps. Bruce honestly wasn't even sure if it was intentional, as his son had stumbled over the stairs on a plethora of other occasions, but he appreciated the notice anyway.

"Hello Tim." He greeted, spinning the chair slightly to face him. Steph had tugged off his gauntlets a while ago, hands clawed around his, so he couldn't do much more than offer his son a small smile in greeting.

Tim raised an eyebrow, lifting an unsure hand back in a wave. "Hey B! You're finally home! Uh, Dick should be down shortly, he's helping Damian with some papier mache." He lifted a hand at Bruce's raised eyebrow. "Don't ask."

Bruce chuckled, shifting in his chair. "Fair enough." He agreed, moving his arms slightly and disturbing Steph, who cracked open a displeased eye.

"Hey Timbo." She greeted, voice slightly muffled by Bruce's chest plate.

"Hey Steph." Tim returned, amused. "What's uh.. what's going on?" Steph sighed and very reluctantly peeled off of Bruce, slipping off his lap.

"B-man, go get changed. I'll give Tim the run down." Bruce obediently stood as Steph wandered over to Tim, her fingers curling into his. Tom looked at her curious as she held her breath, seemingly waiting for something, before releasing it slowly, somewhat disappointed.

Bruce had caught the action to, and he stared at her, equally curious, but she waved him towards the showers. "You stink Boss. Go shower and change."

Bruce's eyes narrowed in suspicion, too used to their tricks, hers in particular to not be, but after a moment when it became clear she wouldn't spill, reluctantly trotted off to the showers.

Now, Tim didn't feel he was bad at holding hands, he wasn't an Olympic professional or anything, but she had been the one to initiate contact with him. Steph gave him a look that revealed she'd tell him everything once Bruce was gone.

Which he seemed to know too as he took his time, but eventually disappeared down the hall. They waited until he was well and truly out of hearing range, checking to make sure he hadn't tricked them, before Tim turned to her expectantly.

"Bruce has been hit with a curse or something that makes you feel the emotions he feels for you when you touch him." Steph blurted immediately, biting her lip. Tim blinked. That was... well it wasn't what he'd been expecting, but it was also well within the reigns of what he might've suspected if he'd been given any hints.

"What." Okay, maybe not.

Steph rolled her eyes, a small smile crossing her face. "Bruce has this curse on him or something, and Z told him that it transfers warmth to the people he touches." She rolled her eyes. "Some twisted ironic joke or something. But really, when he touches you- you can... feel his emotions."

Tim rubbed a hand over his brow, frowning. "O-k... so, if I touch him: I feel his emotions?" He questioned, double checking. Steph nodded.

"Yes. Well, no. You feel... you feel his emotions towards you specifically. Well.. it might be in the moment but its aimed at you. Or... I think it is." She smiled sheepishly. "I'm kinda the only evidence..."

Tim nodded, mind buzzing. "Ok.. and he thinks that it's just a?? what? warmth spell?" Steph nodded, more vigorous this time, her grip on his hand tightening slightly.

"Yep. I mean, its not wrong per se, his emotions are very warm. They're nice." She hurried to add, cheeks tinging red. "But like... pleasantly warm. Like a.. like a nice blanket."

Tim smiled, a small chuckle escaping. "Ok. So.. Zatanna lied to him."

Steph shrugged. "Honestly, I was a little upset at first too but... would you tell him?" Tim looked at her in question. "I mean, the guy who is inherently bad at communicating his feelings and now you're telling me I get to know exactly what he feels for me, without him getting to hide it or lie around it or anything?" She shrugged again. "It was... kinda nice."

Tim nodded, and couldn't help the same tiny fluttering hope, the need to know, bubbling in his chest. "How long do you think it'll last for?" He asked, shooting a look to where Bruce had disappeared.

"Oh," Steph waved a dismissive hand. "According to Bruce Z said it'll last a few days. We have time."

Tim nodded, and swallowed, hands suddenly feelings clammy. "hey." Steph hugged his hand, forcing him to look at her. "It's okay. I know- I know it's scary. It was... if I had known going in that that's what I'd be getting if I touched him..." She picked at her sleeves. "I don't know that I would." She admitted, voice quiet with shame.

Tim squeezed her hand, nodding encouragingly. "But I touched him.." Steph whispered, voice hardly louder than the whirring of the batcomputer. "And Tim.." Her eyes shone with tears as she looked up at him. "Love Tim. So much love. And- and and joy and he was content there with me- and..." She faltered, biting her lip.

Tim could understand. It was hard, vulnerable to share these emotions she'd felt. To share how she felt receiving them. "Pride Tim." Her voice was awash with wonder. "He's- he's proud of me."

Tears came them, earnest and plenty, and Tim wrapped his arms around her as she leant into his chest, hands fisting his shirt. "He's proud of me." She whispered, and Tim stroked a hand up and down her back, his other moving to cup her chin, and tilted her face to look at him.

"Of course he's proud of you." He whispered, wiping his thumb over her cheek. "You are good Steph. And strong. You- you saved my life. You saved me Stephanie Brown. You are so funny and caring and- and lively. Who wouldn't be proud of that?"

Steph hiccupped, another sob bubbling out of her and his lips brushed over hers, melting against her. Bruce emerged from the shower rooms, footsteps purposefully audible, and Tim reluctantly pulled away, nodding to his father as Steph composed herself, back still to him.

It wasn't that they were embarrassed, or doing it for Bruce's benefit- they had suffered his PDA with Selina on too many occasions to care, but Tim was anxious to know what he felt, and Steph hated kissing and crying.

She wiped away the last few tears and looked up at him, both for confirmation that he was ready, and that she'd removed all traces of crying. Seeing that Bruce was a detective and she'd only had a few seconds to cover up the evidence, it wasn't likely, but she'd done the best she could, and Bruce wouldn't press now.

Tim gave her a nod and she smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to face Bruce, hand slipping into Tim's. Together. They'd do it together, as they had all else.

Bruce had slipped into his customary black slacks, and though it was chilly outside, the cave was warm enough that he was wearing a simple gray t-shirt.

"Breaking out the spring colors are we?" Steph teased, squeezing Tim's hand casually as she tugged them closer. Bruce rolled his eyes with a small smile, sending her a questioningly concerned look. Steph gave the briefest nod in return and he straightened with the confirmation she was okay, turning to face Tim.

"Timmy, it's good to see you. Everything alright?" He glanced between Steph and Tim again, increasingly more concerned.

"Steph told me about the curse." Tim explained casually. "I just wanted to- wondered if I could test it too. See if it reacts differently with different people." He gulped, adams apple shifting up and down.

Bruce nodded, never one to deny his children curiosity. Steph squeezed Tim's hand again, and he let go, stepping forward cautiously, hand hovering over Bruce's.

"It won't bite." Bruce teased lightly, but didn't move. He let Tim come to him. Let him set the pace, though he didn't understand why.

Tim nodded again, and gently placed his hand in Bruce's. At once Bruce curled his fingers, locking around Tim's in a comforting and familiar embrace, but Tim couldn't focus on that, couldn't even think.

Steph was right. It was warmth. But it swarmed into him from the point of contact, almost like a drug, blocking out his sense. His knees buckled, almost giving out, and Bruce let out a sound of distress, making to both release him and grab him, hand fastening onto Tim's side as extra stability. That was always Bruce's problem. Torn between helping, yet knowing his hands could be the cause of harm.

Tim's grip tightened on his hand, and Bruce reluctantly kept holding him, though his sudden added contact on Tim's waist, an unfortunate skin to skin contact as Tim's shirt was a margin too small for him, did not help the feeling flooding through his body.

Steph stepped behind him, her body a solid constant for him to steady himself against as he took a measured breath, trying to stem the force of feelings puddling in him.

Bruce's forehead creased with worry, but Tim's other hand fastened onto his wrist, daring him to pull away, so he stayed.

Steph was right. Pure utter love poured through Tim, along with snippets of pride and a certain red emotion that Tim could only translate as comfort. He didn't know what it meant, exactly, but it was nice.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interupted by a jovial shout as Dick came trampling down the stairs. "B! You're home! Can I interest you in a spar? I know you're back from patrol but-" He paused, taking in the scene before him.

Tim closed his mouth again, somewhat grateful for the interruption because he wasn't quite sure he'd have been able to speak anyway, and reluctantly pulled away, dislodging the contact Bruce had on him. The delicious flow of warmth slowed and stopped, but there was a certain... aftertaste that left him feeling toasty warm.

"What's uh.. what's going on?" Dick asked curious, eyes darting between them.

"B's been cursed." Steph explained. "Anyone who touches him feels... warm. Tim wanted to test it out."

Dick's forehead folded as he frowned, glancing between Tim and Bruce. "That was... warmth?" He questioned, doubt written in every feature of his body. Bruce looked equally as doubtful, glancing at Tim.

"I'm fine." Tim breathed, finally gaining his breath, arm wrapping easily around Steph in faux causality, using her as a crutch. Steph hid her smile, subtly stabilizing her footing so she could support his weight.

"Its just.. intense. I mean, B's naturally a furnace so," He laughed. "Don't worry, it just caught me off guard. I'm fine." He waved off their concern, and after a second's longer study, Bruce turned to Dick with a tilt of his head.

"What did you need?" He asked, hands clasping in front of him. Dick dragged his attention away from Tim, finally, allowing him to sink further against Steph for support, addressing his father.

"I was wondering if you were up for a spar? I know it's after patrol but I need more practice with someone who is um..." He threw an apologetic glance at Tim and Steph. "Bigger."

Tim groaned, sticking his tongue out at his brother as Steph thrust a hand to her chest, gasping in fake outrage. "How DARE you Dickolas Grayson!" She exclaimed with flourish. (for some reason the most posh name Stephanie could think of was Nicolas, which meant everyone who had a shortened nickname turned into a version of -icolas whenever she was mad at them: ergo-Timolas, Damilas, etc)

"You know I've been bulking!" She pouted, and Dick rolled his eyes, a small grin tugging his lips.

Bruce rolled his shoulders, and nodded. "Yeah. I can go for a round. You guys gonna stay?" He asked, glancing at Steph and Tim.

They nodded, plopping onto the cave floor where they were. "I ain't missing this for shit." Steph agreed, and Tim nodded.

"My first idols fighting? Oh yeah." Steph shoved him for the hero worship, but they both knew the true reason they were staying was to see how Dick dealt with the sudden flush of emotions Bruce would send at him at the first contact.

It felt a little wrong not to let Dick know, but there wasn't much to do now, and... honestly they wanted to see what happened.

Dick swung his arms around a bit to get lose as both he and Bruce tossed off their shirts, throwing them to the side as they circled on the mat.

"Get him Dick!" Steph hollered, grinning when Bruce sent her a look.

The two circled for a moment longer, both waiting for an opening Tim knew that they both knew wouldn't come, both too well trained for it, but Bruce, being Bruce, lunged forward first, giving Dick the chance to spring back and dodge his first hit, swinging a blow around to hit his side.

The hit was quick and pulled back quickly, as this was just a spar, and Bruce's reaction time was scary quick, so Dick probably hadn't felt the sudden flow of warmth as he darted back, Bruce swinging around to meet his next blow and block.

Tim didn't think he was breathing, and Steph certainly wasn't, her fingernails digging grooves into his arm as they watched the two dance back and forth, neither one touching the other for very long, until Bruce finally landed a solid hit to Dick's chest.

Dick let out a confused grunt, face twisting in question as he flew back, landing hard. Bruce was at his side in an instant, concern etched into his features, because he'd purposefully kept the hit light, and it shouldn't have brought him down so easily.

As expected, Dick sat up fairly quickly, but prompted seized up as Bruce grabbed his arm, scanning for injuries. "oh." A breathless gasp left his mouth, and Bruce seemed even more panicked now, but Dick merely closed a hand around his fathers wrist, holding his hand in place over his heart.

His eyes found Tim's, eyes slightly glassy. "So that's what you meant."

@ineveryfandom

Bruce, predictably, finally broke. "What does that mean??" He asked, baffled, but stayed in place at Dick's side, shooting an exasperated look over his shoulder at Steph and Tim.

Dick smiled, looking slightly loopy, like maybe he was high or something. Bruce was getting increasingly more concerned.

Tim groaned, and got to his feet, stretching. His body was still deliciously sore and achy from his own experience with Bruce, leftover warmth cradling his joints and massaging his back with delightful little squeezes.

"Why do you have to be such a detective?" Steph groused, also standing, and they ambled over, standing over the two fighters.

Dick stayed in his spot on the floor, a wonderfully dazed expression on his face, letting his body completely relax against the floor, leaning so that his head was in Bruce's lap.

Bruce let out a little huff, but started carding his fingers through his son's hair anyway, ridiculously, disgustingly fond in Tim's opinion, before looking up at them expectantly.

"Fine. Fine!" Steph threw her hands up, plopping down next to him on the mat, and stole his hand from Dick's chest, intertwining his fingers with her own.

"Hey!" Dick complained, voice slightly slurred, eyes still glazed. Bruce was getting very worried.

"You have a hand!" Steph pointed out, letting out a quiet breath as her fingers curled fully around Bruce's. Dick let out a grumble but let it go, too entranced by the movement on his scalp.

Tim huffed a laugh as he dropped, shaking his head at them. Bruce cleared his throat.

Tim looked at Steph. She waved her other hand at him, humming absently as she leaned against Bruce. "You tell it." She murmured, rubbing against Bruce's arm like an affectionate cat. "I don't think I can formulate words like this, and you'll say it better anyway."

Tim rolled his eyes at the clearly false statement, but reluctantly faced Bruce, fingers picking at his sleeves. "Um. Well." He hesitated, looking at Dick. As though facing Bruce directly was too much. "You know how you were hit by that curse?"

Bruce hummed the affirmative, waiting. He had puzzled out that much for himself, thanks.

Tim's cheeks colored as though hearing the silent thoughts, fiddling with one of the many rings that littered his fingers. "Well uh... y'know how she told you it just like.. sent out warmth?" Tim waited for another nod. "She kinda... I mean she didn't lie, exactly, it does feel warm, but like-"

"Basically when we touch you we can feel your emotions towards us." Steph cut him off, finally deciding that her explanation would be less muddled than Tim's.

Tim nodded his agreement, and Dick lifted a lazy finger, still acting too suspiciously drunk for Bruce's liking. "So that's what this is." He murmured, a smile crossing his face. "Huh." He tilted his head back, smiling dreamily at Bruce. "I love you too Dad."

When it registered that they weren't, actually, messing with him, Bruce jerked away, scrambling up and retreating to the other side of the mat as he realized the implications of their words. Dick let out a muttered curse as his head thumped against the mat, and Steph almost fell on top of him, caught off balance.

"What the hell?" She scowled at him, and Dick followed suit, sitting up to glare at his father.

Bruce was shaking his head, holding up his hands as though to ward them off. "N-no." And if his voice hadn't been shaking, they would've advanced on him. As it was, they stayed seated, watching him.

"My-my brain is n-not a pleasant place to be." Bruce's hands were actively shaking, and he lowered them to his sides, fists clenching. "I-you shouldn't have-" He seemed infinitely afraid and guilty all at once.

"Bruce." Tim's voice was firm. "Look at me."

After a moments hesitation, Bruce did, eyes guilt ridden, hands clenched at his side.

"Look at us." Tim continued, gesturing at himself, Steph, and Dick. "Do we look repulsed?" Bruce frowned at the odd question, then after a beat shook his head. "Do we look like we wanted to pull away from you?" Another head shake. "Did we, at any time, make you think that when we were touching you, we weren't enjoying it?" An infinitely small head shake.

Dick sighed, standing slowly, as though not to spook a frightened animal. Bruce felt like a frightened animal, ready to bolt at any loud noise. But Dick approached slowly, calm.

"Bruce. I know it's hard- I know you don't want to think about it, to talk about it. I know you think you are wrong and bad and everything you have ever done to us, or in our vicinity was harmful in some way. But look at me." He took Bruce's hand in his own, gently, and Bruce trembled.

"Look at me." Dick whispered, swallowing as the sudden wave of distinct warmth Steph and Tim had told him about flooded into him. "Do you want to know what I feel when I touch you? What your emotions reveal to me?"

Bruce looked very much like he did not, but Dick continued anyway, unbothered. "I feel pride, firstly. Then..." Dick blinked, caught off guard by whatever emotion he had just identified. "Awe.." He mumbled, smiling faintly. "You're in awe of me?" He mumbled, laughing lightly.

Bruce finally found his voice. "Of course." His voice was rough, lacking its usual silky smooth timbre, but no less soothing. "I am in awe of you everyday. Of all of you. Of the work you do..."

Dick chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand. "And yet you think yourself so wrong." He muttered, almost sadly, mostly to himself. Baffled.

"You want to know what I feel?" Steph asked as she stood as well, wandering over. Bruce seemed almost more afraid of her verdict.

"I feel... admiration. Confidence. Like you... like you're sure of me. Proud of who I am. Proud of who I've become. Not afraid to let the world see me at your side because you are confident in my abilities, in me." Her voice caught, and she grabbed Bruce's another hand, squeezing tight. As if she could squeeze back her own emotions into him. Make him see. To feel how much that meant.

Bruce's eyes were wet, and he choked out a hollow laugh. "Of course I am!" He rasped. "I would never be ashamed of you Stephanie. Of any of you."

Tim completed the circle around him, wrapping his arms around Dick and Steph's shoulders as though hoping they would be a conduit of Bruce's warmth. "Bruce, you care about us. You love us. We know it. But that, overwhelmingly, is what I felt. That you love me. Us. And that... that means so much." His voice faltered, and Dick wrapped his free arm around his brothers waist, taking over for him as Tim buried his face in his shoulder.

"Bruce, we know you love us. But to feel it? So unbridled like this?" He laughed, shrugging. "I don't know. It just... it means a lot. And we are not afraid of you. We love you too. Please. Please let us have this. For us. But for yourself too."

Bruce swallowed, but after a slow, achingly quiet moment, pried his hand from Stephanies, and gently touched Tim's cheek.

The teenager froze, body locking up for a fraction of a second, before he practically melted, leaning into the touch like he was an addict and Bruce was his drug.

And to see it in this light... in their light...

Footsteps clomped down the stairs and they all turned as Jason ambled down the steps, pausing with a raised eyebrow when he spotted them.

"What kind of weird cult meeting have I stumbled into?" He questioned, and if his concern weren't evident, they would have expected him to turn around and leave.

Steph opened her mouth to answer, but Bruce pushed between them, stepping forward. Jason eyed him warily.

Relations between the two had... improved, so to speak. Jason visited the manor more frequently, as evident, was able to work together with Bruce, and even came over to family dinners every Friday, and had managed to fall into an easy, less tense than before banter with Bruce.

It wasn't perfect, but it was progress, and that was all they could ask for. For now at least.

Bruce started forward slowly, and Tim frowned, moving to intercept him, but Dick caught his arm, giving a quick jerk of his head. No matter what happened, this was Bruce's decision, and how Jason handled it was up to him. This was between them. No one else.

Jason waited patiently, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, eyes darting over to the others every few seconds, but stayed. Bruce stopped, right in front of him, and the two sized each other up for a few seconds in silence.

"I was hit by a curse." Bruce's voice split the silence like a knife, and Steph almost groaned at how it ruined the cinematography of the moment, but Dick couldn't stifle his smile. Of course. It was all about consent for Bruce. He wouldn't force anything on Jason that he didn't want. Especially not his emotions.

Jason's eyebrows had risen in unison, and he watched, waiting for the climax, the punchline of the joke.

"The curse makes anyone who comes in contact with me feel whatever emotions I have for them, in the moment, and perhaps even prior." Bruce continued, eyes glued to Jason's face, searching for any sign to step back, to retreat. To stop.

Jason's eyebrows reached his hairline, but he didn't back away. Didn't throw a smoke bomb(as he had done twice before) and disappear.

Bruce swallowed. "I'm going to hug you now, Jason." He whispered.

Tim was too far away to tell, but he almost swore Jason's breath hitched. That it became a little erratic.

No one dared to breathe as Bruce slowly leaned in, and even the bats at the top of the cave paused their rustling for a moment.

Bruce's hugs were precise and enveloping. Cradling. His arms wrapped around Jason's torso slowly, hand snaking up to cup the back of his head.

Tim wasn't sure if either one was breathing. He certainly wasn't.

Bruce's fingertips finally grazed Jason's skin, hand cupping his neck. Jason's knees buckled as his arms snagged out for purchase to keep him afloat. That stability just so happened to be Bruce, and he slammed forward, collapsing into the hug.

Silence echoed throughout the cave, broken only by the slight shuffle of Steph's feet as she glanced at Dick and Tim.

Dick was watching the crumpling intertwining of the two bodies on the floor in amusement, and slight jealousy she could tell, as Bruce's fingers carded through Jason's black hair instead of his, arms wrapped around his son.

Jason was slumped on top of Bruce's chest, arms curled protectively around him, pressing as close as he possibly could to any free portion of skin. Bruce seemed entirely unbothered by the two hundred pound brick on top of him, completely content to just hold him for as long as he wanted.

Steph huffed, and tugged on Tim's hand, dragging the three of them over. "Alright buster," She growled, nudging Jason's arm with her foot. "You've had your turn!"

Jason turned, face screwed up in a scowl. "As if! He's been home for two hours! You guys have been hogging him this whole time! It's barely been ten minutes!"

Steph crossed her arms, seemingly uncaring of his very true mathematics. (Even if she'd had Bruce to herself for a full hour before the others had joined) "So? Budge over."

Bruce let out a tiny laugh, his first sound in ten minutes, and stretched out a hand, steady and sure. Steph latched onto it like a sea urchin, plopping to the floor.

Dick followed suit, dragging Tim down with him, and wriggled his way between his father and brother, squishing underneath Jason and wedging himself on top of Bruce's left bicep, neck settling against the open skin.

Just before Tim managed to claim a piece of the real estate for himself, the entrance to the Batcave door was thrown open, sending a pillar of light down the stairs.

"Father!" Damian's voice rang down the steps, followed by the sound of the child himself making his way down. "You have been down here for two hours and dinner is growing cold. I know Drake and Stephanie hindered your arrival-" He paused when he reached the bottom of the stairs, beholding the sight before him.

"Love you too, Inchworm." Steph drawled, and Tim lifted his hand with four folded down fingers in agreement in his little brothers direction. Damian ignored both, laser focused on Bruce, who smiled comfortingly at his son.

"Hello Damian." He greeted, and with barely even a grunt of exertion, toppled all four children off him as he stood to face his son. Jason let out a whine, and the other three sent him looks.

"Now you know how it feels." Dick muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs for his troubles. He didn't dodge the blow, too busy rubbing at his bruised head for the second time that night.

"Father." Damian greeted, eyes drifting around between the five of them for answers. "What is the meaning of... this?"

"It's called a hug." Steph informed him. "Or, more informally, a dog pile. I know you didn't get enough of them growing up-" She ducked, grinning, just before a knife sailed for the space her head had been, pinging harmlessly against the floor. Dick hadn't even seen Damian draw it.

"Princling," Bruce chided softly, but then again, he hadn't even turned to make sure the knife hadn't come in contact with any flesh, so he truly wasn't that condemning.

Bruce knelt, knees popping, and spoke in low tones, probably recapping what had already been explained four times prior now. Steph began doodling on a pack of bright purple sticky notes Dick knew she'd leave posted around the house for Bruce to find, and Jason engaged Tim in a mimed argument, but after Dick lip-read the word "pine cone!" for the fourth time, he zoned out, focusing his attention to his little brother, who was currently staring at Bruce with wide eyes.

Jason and Tim's argument fell "silent", and everyone's focus turned to the youngest Wayne member. Damian swallowed, eyes searching all of them for any sign of a lie, or any help in how to move forward.

"Touch him." Tim suggested, gesturing lightly at Bruce. "If you want to confirm." Damian nodded, seemingly having only needed some quick reassurance, and Bruce extended his hand slowly, offering it up. Dick had to admit, he'd never seen Damian look so apprehensive before.

His hand was so small compared to Bruce's, and the second it touched down Bruce's hand closed, almost as if on instinct, engulfing the boys hand entirely. Damian's eyes went impossibly wider, and he stumbled, breathing hard. Bruce moved instinctively closer, other arm at the ready to brace him if needed.

Damian pulled his hand away and Bruce released immediately. Dick scrambled to his feet, moving closer, as did the others, ready to intervene and assure Bruce everything was okay, that it wasn't his fault, that he had nothing to apologize for.

Bruce couldn't breathe. He wasn't complaining, but it was starting to ache in his chest a little.

He was sprawled across the couch, wearing nothing more than his boxers, and all six of his children were sprawled across his body, or at least touching him, in some way shape or form.

Dick was collapsed on top of his chest on one side, Jason on the other, while Damian had curled up right in the middle. Stephanie had chosen to go for his legs, koala tentacled around it like an affectionate leech, and Tim had claimed his right arm, curled around it like he'd never let go. Bruce had lost feeling in it a while ago anyway.

Dick had called up Babs and given her the rundown, and she had arrived only a few minutes before, and was contently working on a case, her wheelchair parked next to the couch, Bruce's left hand on her thigh to provide contact.

It was where Cass found them, slinking down the stairs to the kitchen, and stopped the moment she saw them all. Bruce offered her a smile, not daring to remove either of his hands to wave, and in a hushed whisper revealed to her what was going on.

Cass stared at him for a moment longer, let her fingers dance across Damian's cheek (the boy had passed out not long after his brothers had) before settling down next to Stephanie, grabbing his other leg.

Bruce sighed in contentment, and Dick shifted in his sleep, lightening the load on Bruce's chest, making it easier to breathe.

"Master Bruce-" Alfred froze on the threshold of the door, and before Bruce could say anything, the butler had out his phone and snapped a picture.

Bruce chuckled, opening his mouth to tell him the reason behind his children's sudden affection attack, suddenly a little nervous, when the man lifted a hand to stop him.

"Miss Gordon has already informed me of your predicament, my dear boy. I only wished to see if you needed refreshments, then I shall depart again."

Bruce felt something simultaneously hot and cold wash over him. "oh." He managed, tongue heavy. "No- no I'm ok. Thanks Alfred." He whispered, voice tapering off.

Alfred nodded swiftly, then hesitated a moment in the doorway, uncertain. Barbara squeezed Bruce's hand, lifting it discreetly off her lap. Bruce swallowed.

"Actually- Alfie?" He hadn't used the childhood nickname in years, and if he didn't know better, Bruce would've said his employees breath caught.

"I- I uh, was wondering." Bruce shifted a little, and Damian let out the cutest little sigh, burrowing closer. Bruce clung to the little child on his chest, the children across him, using their affection, their love, as a shield to the soon to come rejection.

He lifted his hand, smiling awkwardly. "Could I- do you maybe-?"

Bruce didn't know why he'd been worried. His dad read his mind, the way he always did, the way he always had, and crossed the room in a few quick strides, kneeling down next to the couch.

"My dear boy," He whispered, stroking a hand across Bruce's forehead, and Bruce let his eyes flutter closed for a moment, treasuring the rare moment of affection. "It would by my honor." Alfred whispered.

Bruce swallowed, and Alfred clasped his hand. Bruce wasn't sure he was breathing, and he was positive Barbara was holding her breath just to be annoying.

Alfred smiled, eyes suspiciously wet. "Just as I suspected." He murmured, squeezing Bruce's hand. "My perfect boy."

and also YES BRUCE IS ALFRED’S PERFECT BOY IM SOBBING (now i need to reblog my alfred-bruce art again i love them sm 😞)