this story is just for that one reader

Bruce, in his mid-twenties: No.

22 year old Dick, sitting on top of Bruce's shoulders with a mix of confusion, concern, and astonishment: Do I... weigh anything to you?

Tim: investigating the sex crime rings is the worst, but you gotta admit it does open your eyes to how... wide, the range of people's specific tastes are.

Damian: ok i'm not touching that box. that's clearly a box of uncleaned sex toys; im a minor, that's all you Nightwing.

Dick: *disgusted* mmmmm..... *whining* i'm gonna get a disease,

Tim: you're literally wearing gloves; we need to take some stuff back for DNA tracking.

Dick: well that's easy for you to say, you don't have to look through the used stuff!

Tim, unsympathetic: -listen i wanted to raid this place yesterday, before the orgy. you made us wait, you can deal with the consequences.

Damian: what are you looking at Red?

Tim: come see.

*a beat*

Damian: *snort* holy fuck, how many different ones are there?

Tim: that's what i mean, like who decides to manufacture this?!

Dick: *sounding slightly ill* what are you two looking at? i don't want Robin too deeply involved in this case, guys, he's just supposed to be lookout.

Damian: Red found the lube stash. we're seeing how many different flavours there are.

Tim: i feel like if banging isn't that satisfying for you on its own, then the problem is probably something way different than the flavour. i don't think these would help.

Damian: honestly if i was sucking dick and i tasted blueberries it would probably take me out of the mood, just from pure confusion.

Dick, aghast: ROBIN. i don't wanna hear you talking about that kind of thing?!

Damian: i'm almost fifteen, Nightwing.

Tim: *abrupt laugh* ok, you turned fourteen like two months ago-,

Dick: EITHER WAY TOO YOUNG.

Damian: *snicker*

*dull clattering*

Tim: HOLD ON, EVERYBODY SHUT UP. ok i found the winner. ladies and gentlemen, bakewell tart flavoured lube.

Damian: *cackles* no way,

Dick: guys, stop messing around. we don't know when they'll come back.

Tim: my thing about flavoured lube is that, like; somebody at the factory has to check the flavour is right before they roll it out to the public, right? so do you think- *snicker* do you- somewhere out there, there is a guy whose job is literally, 'eat lube'.

Damian, holding back laughter: ah, my dream job.

Tim: *cackle*

Damian: do you think it's accurate?

Tim, pointed: ...i dunno..,

*three seconds of silence*

Dick, wary: what are you guys doing over there?

Tim: i mean... it's still sealed and unopened, nobody's touched this one.

Damian: i will give you five dollars.

Tim: five dollars is not worth eating strange foraged lube from a crate in a warehouse, Robin.

Damian: ten.

*a beat*

Tim: yeah ok.

*faint uncapping noise*

so many feelings~

and the bonus looked like recognition from the outside