#timber week

I REALLY don't want to just let Timber Week 2024 go without a fight. It's not July anymore, it's the last month of the year. I'm not the Fandom Official Timber Week account.

But...

Should I just make my own Timber Week? I'm asking honestly because I've NEVER been a part of a fandom this way. Messing up big official things in someone else's domain scares me! I'm TERRIFIED of failure.

But I really really love Bernard Dowd. And I really really love Tim Drake. And I really REALLY love their ship. DC has been silent on Bernard for so long, I don't want him to disappear without at least trying to keep this small part of the community going, even if it's just in name.

The only meaningful date left for them is the anniversary of Bernard's first appearance, December 17. So this would have to be the week of that date: December 15 thru December 21.

a drawing for day 5 that I just finished for Timber week 😅😅

"Please don't leave me" | CHEF BERNARD | Touch Starved

Inspired by this post of @hoopoo09

Tim is privileged to have a loving Chef boyfriend who makes him homemade lunches to eat on patrol! Which makes him the target of his brothers and Steph, who will try anything to steal his food… Except Cass, because she was the only one who asked if Tim would give her something.

Bernard cooks varied meals (in this case it was the turn of a Japanese bento) always keeping in mind the caloric intake of a vigilante, and also making everything delicious and putting loving little notes that make Tim very happy!.

Timber Week 2023 | Day 3: "My Boyfriend has an identical scar here."

That's the designated kissing spot, what's he supposed to do? Not Kiss?

TimBer Week prompt Masterpost!

With TimBer week just over a month away, we bring you our prompt sheets, now combined in one easy to access place!

SFW Prompt Sheet

NSFW Prompt Sheet (18+)

We hope you enjoy gearing up for the event (which will be running from July 23rd to July 29th 2023), and if you have any questions please refer to our FAQ, or send us an ask!

“Tim?” Bernard asked, and watched his boyfriend flinch in response.

Oh.

---

after the events of td:r #10 bernard confronts tim

I was wondering if you're going to be hosting Timber Week again this year. Your prompts from last year were really fun!

Aaah so glad to show up on peoples dashes once again! Sorry it’s been so quiet on here, rl stuff has really been keeping me busy haha

So glad you’re happy to see my Tim again too! He’s been a joy to finally draw again 😌🙏

Super pleased you enjoyed Timber Week last year, it makes me so happy to know people had fun with the event! 😊

Now I can’t absolutely promise anything since my schedule is a bit up in the air for the rest of the year-but I’ve definitely been thinking about Timber Week as the time period of the event from last year draws closer. And especially with all this new Timber content we’ve been getting from DC, there’s for sure a lot of new scenarios to base prompts off of 👀

TimBer Week 2024 Day #7: First Sleeepover

Last one of the week. We made it!

It was amazing how casually it had come about.

They’d been dating for six months, officially boyfriends for only a few weeks. And yet…it felt like they’d been together for years. Bernard came by almost every day, they shared meals and swapped clothes, then bickered over whose turn it was to do laundry. It felt like they were sharing the boat as a home together and that filled Tim with delight that he couldn't fully express.

But the one thing they had yet to do was spend a night together.

N-not like that! Just…you know, sleeping in the same space. They’d done that a lot in high school, when they’d stay up late playing video games or watching movies, then crash at one person’s house. They’d make pallets across the floor or just collapse on top of someone’s bed, where parents would drape them in individual blankets.

It wasn’t a new thing… but this was a new thing!

One bed. One blanket. A pre-planned slumber party.

Granted, it had come about for a very non-romantic reason.

--

“Fumigate?!”

Bernard winced at his boyfriend’s outraged exclamation, setting the phone aside while he struggled to fold his clothes into his duffel bag.

“Yeah, some idiot called the health inspector on one of the neighbors. I don’t know what they found, but they gave us all an hour to pack up and get out. They said it won’t be safe to come back until tomorrow.”

“And where exactly do they expect you to go until then?”

Bernard wished they were on video chat so Tim could see his deadpan look. “Tim, babe, this is a low-income district. They don’t care if I sleep on the street as long as I don’t come back until they give the go-ahead.”

Tim squawked over the line while Bernd packed some underwear. “I’ll just sleep at a friend’s house. It’s fine. Jared has a pull-out couch and as long as Toby didn’t get kicked out of his girlfriend’s place again, I can just-”

“Stay here.”

“Huh?”

“Here. At the boat. With me.”

“Uh, are you sure about that?”

“Am I- Bear! You just told me you’re going to be homeless for a night. Why wouldn’t I want you to be here with me?”

“Well, when you put it like that, sure. I have a work shift for the next few hours, but I’ll come around sometime after 8. That cool?”

“Sure, that’s perfect. See you then.”

“Love you.”

Tim was quiet for a moment. Bernard was patient. Then, “I love you, too. See you later. Bye.”

Bernard grinned. It was a tactical risk pulling that on him. It hadn’t been that long ago Tim could call them boyfriends without stuttering. And now, they were going to have their first sleepover together since high school.

Bernard looked at his clothes as he packed them up, particularly his pajamas. They were hand-me-downs from Toby, and while Bernard liked them well enough, would they be a little too ratty for this? And moreover, would showing up there in Batman pajamas be a little too on the nose? He loved teasing Tim about his secret identity but that might actually get him suspicious that Bernard knew the truth. He’d need to pick up something else after he was done with work. He would not show up to his boyfriend’s boat looking like a slob!

--

Tim was a slob messy person. His mind was sharp, his deductive reasoning unparalleled, and his skills across various fields were masterful. But like most geniuses, he thrived in chaos of his own making, and there was no clearer sign of that than his houseboat. Once, his neighbor Lauren had stopped by to ask him to have dinner with her and Tammy, and nearly killed herself walking down the stairs when she slipped on a discarded takeout bag. Not Tim’s fault, though Tammy’s wrath after that incident said otherwise.

So while Tim definitely had to clean up any evidence of his Robin activities - case files, hardware, suit pieces, gadgets - he also gave the space a proper cleaning. Like on-the-floor-with-a-scrub-brush, window-washing, dishes-put-away kind of cleaning. The laundry… well, that went under the bed. He only had so many hours!

The fervor with which he cleaned his living space surprised even him. He had ignored it when his siblings talked about his junky boat; Bernard had already seen it this way from the very start. But he still wanted to make it shine for him. Make it just a little bit better for his boyfriend’s first night over.

--

Bernard arrived in the evening, with his necessities and valuables he didn’t want to leave behind where strangers might rummage through his drawers. A Gothamite born and raised. Tim tried not to linger over the idea that his boyfriend's whole life could probably fit in just three bags and met him on the dock for a welcoming kiss. They had been sharing a lot more kisses since officially calling each other boyfriends (though apparently, Bernard had been calling them that way longer). When they finally pulled back, Bernard was beaming with unrestrained glee. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Tim returned, picking up one of the bags and bringing it into his home.

Bernard gawked at the place. “Uh, did you buy a new house without telling me? Because I swear I haven't seen the floor of your boat since the day before you moved in.”

“Ha-ha,” Tim said, setting the duffel bag down on his clutter-free floor. “If you wanted to sleep in a Five-Star hotel, you should have spoken up sooner.

Actually, his back-up apartment over near Crime Alley might qualify. If Bernard was really uncomfortable sleeping on the boat, maybe he could bring him over there instead. He’d have to be extra careful about the access points to the Nest but…

“No way!” his boyfriend declared, sounding offended at the idea. “I love your boat. It's so cozy and homey and so totally you. It’s perfect just as it is, even when it’s messier than a frat-boy’s dorm!” He just couldn’t resist that last dig.

But Tim appreciated his words all the same.

--

They ordered delivery for dinner, a local Thai place that they both adored. While sitting around Tim’s table, Bernard brought out his laptop to show him his latest discover: a fan-made Green Lantern movie. Tim was genuinely impressed by the flick and was already plotting how to get Bruce into a situation where he couldn’t escape watching it. The aroma of green curry and spring rolls, Bernard’s theories that the filmmakers were actually part of a Lantern Corp splinter group wishing to sway public opinion and take over the universe - all of it felt right. For them, at least.

“It just makes sense,” Bernard insisted between bites of his curry. "By hiding in plain sight on YouTube, they can secretly influence galactic events and just blame it on the more famous members!”

Tim laughed, urging him on. Bernard's eyes sparkled when he was passionate about a new idea.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through topics of jobs, school, family and anything else they wanted. There was a lightheartedness to it all, but also a deeper connection, an unshakable comfort and safety that let them be as unfiltered and silly as they pleased. As the night went on and their movie ended, they were still talking, ignoring their food that had long gone cold. Bernard leaned back against the bench, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "This is what I like most about being here. It’s just you and me. It’s nice.”

Tim smiled, reaching out to squeeze Bernard's hand. "I love having you here.”

--

Bernard’s yawning told Tim they’d stayed up long enough. He had already called off of patrol for the night but the other still had work tomorrow, so they couldn’t burn the late-night oil like the might any other time. Tim insisted Bernard could head to the bedroom first and get changed while Tim cleaned up the mess.

“He’s already mending his ways,” Bernard wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “I’ve never been more proud.”

He ran to the bedroom, closing the door fast before the couch cushion could hit him.

--

Bernard felt far less sure about his choice of sleeping clothes now that they were on his body. He’d only allowed himself thirty minutes after his shift to dash into a store and grab a “respectable” set of pajamas off the shelf. No garish logos, no quirky patterns; just something nice and neat for when he shared a bed with his Significant Other.

But seeing himself in the light blue, pinstriped flannel, he looked...wrong. Like he was trying to hide behind something "presentable" and fake his way through. A harsh reminder to his teen years, causing a rush of those old insecurities he'd tried to hard to shed. He shouldn't have bought this. He was proud of who he was and what he liked. So why did he keep having these moments of doubt that made him do things he would end up regretting?

Tim knocked on the door, politely refraining from barging into his own bedroom. Bernard would have given anything to rewind, hit pause, and change his life’s decisions. But he couldn’t.

“Come in,” he said, his voice as steady as he could manage.

Tim pushed the door open, took one look at him, and smiled. “Cute.”

Usually, that word from Tim would make him happy, but this time it hit a little wrong. “Yeah, I know it’s… it’s stupid.” He gripped the offensive fabric between his fingers, hating it more with each passing second. “I should have worn the Batman ones instead.”

“Well, that would be very much your style, you fanboy,” Tim said, coming closer. He wrapped his arms around Bernard’s waist, pulling their bodies together, then murmured into his ear, “But these are nice, too. You're a handsome guy, Bernard, no matter what you wear. These look good on you."

Tim’s boldness was unusual, but his ability to read Bernard's insecurities and immediately sooth them was commonplace. Bernard hugged his wonderful boyfriend in gratitude for those words. He then left the room so Tim could change into his own pajamas, which were a lot simpler: basketball shorts and an oversized T-shirt.

Bernard didn’t let their dissimilarity of outfits bother him a second time. He chose to savor the moment; brushing his teeth together in Tim’s tiny bathroom, hip-checking each other for space in the mirror, and trying not to choke on foam amidst their laughter.

--

Tim’s bed wasn’t small, but it was compact. Enough for one person comfortably and two if they didn’t mind touching in the middle. Bernard waited to see which side the other preferred climbing under the sheets with him, taking the spot closer to the wall.

Was that intentional?

The dock lanterns outside shone their light through the windows, the only illumination they had. Bernard was 80% certain Tim could actually see in this dark, so he felt a little more self-conscious than he might have otherwise. A calloused hand found his beneath the blanket and squeezed it, offering silent reassurance to what he must have read on Bernard’s face.

Finding the right sleeping position was hard; Bernard was used to a much firmer (and lumpier) mattress, so his body was a little unsure how to work with Tim’s memory foam. For his part, Tim couldn’t seem to settle on what part of the bed he actually wanted, going from the very edge of his side to taking up a good chunk in the middle. There was a lot of shifting limbs, sometimes kicking each other which provoked retaliation, but that was a familiar part of their old sleepovers too. It was nostalgic.

“Fair warning: I’ve been told I snore,” Tim whispered.

“That won’t bother me. My roommates are like grizzly bears trying to harmonize with one another in an all-night concert. When my eyes are closed, I’m deaf.” Bernard paused, considering, before adding, “But, um, I might wake up in the middle of the night. I get nightmares sometimes.”

Tim was quiet; Bernard wished he could see his face. Then warm arms came up around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug that always felt like a safe place to hide. “I’ll be right here if you do,” Tim promised, soft yet unyielding. “I’ll be here when you get up tomorrow, too. You're safe, Bear. "

Bernard bit his lip to keep the tears of gratitude at bay. How had he found someone who care so much, who actually paid attention enough to see the fears he’d never admit to. Bernard shifted until his lips found warm skin, trailing them across Tim’s cheek until he could properly kiss the man he loved. It was gentler than what they’d had outside, but twice as meaningful. Simple but perfect, just like this moment. Just like every moment they got to share in this comfy houseboat.

The night dragged on, their attempt to sleep interrupted by whispered comments and gentle touches. Snuggling under the blankets was the best part by far, feeling heartbeats and gentle breaths, the warmth and safety of having a lover’s arms to hold you tightly through the night.

The bond they shared was already strong, but taking a step like this made it feel like they were truly unbreakable.

---

I wonder if you can tell how tired I was after a week of writing. Still, I gave it my best to end TimBer Week 2024 on a good note. That said, I might come back through these on a later date and do some editing. Not for a while, though.

Thank you to everyone who read even one of my posts and a special thanks if anyone joined me in this project!

TimBer Week 2024 Day #5: Class Reunion

“Nice Lion-Guard statues at the opening gate. The lack of gargoyles helps you pretend you’re nowhere near Gotham proper.”

“Those were changed since I went here. I wonder if someone broke the front them again.”

“Can I ask what broke them before?”

“Cop car crashed into them while trying to chase after some rollerblading gang members.”

“Classic Bristol.”

—

Brentwood Academy was a school Bernard had heard of many times, even before befriending someone who’d actually went there. His parent had asked his previously if he might want to go there, willing to scrap together the money for enrollment, but he’d declined. His excuse at the time was along the lines of “how can I grow as a well-rounded person with no girls around?” Looking back, it might have been his repressed fear that being around nothing but males would make it harder to hide the part of him that let his eyes linger a little too long.

Tim had been confused when the invite for his previous class’s 10-year reunion showed up in their mail. “I didn’t graduate with them. “You didn’t graduate at all, hon.” “Exactly!”

His guess was that the dean talked them into inviting him because it would look good if he turned up to the reunion and hobnobbed with their potential donors. The only reason Tim agreed to go at all was that he had a few friends he hoped to see there. Tim RSVP’d himself and one guest, that of course being Bernard.

For his part, Bernard was more interesting in seeing how many students at this school were in love with Tim – he’d clocked maybe half the Greive’s population and ad taken great pride in rubbing his relationship status in all of their faces. He’d gone to elementary school with some of them; they’d pulled his clothes or stolen his juice boxes. So it was just fair game to steal the heart of their high school idol. Bernard was ready to flaunt his claim over any other men who’d gotten their awakening from the marvelous Tim Drake as well.

They parked the car and were following the directions of one of the senior boys - their little blazers were so charming - when the bark of a dog made pause. It broke through the manicured bushes that separated the parking lot from the main grounds, revealed to be a tan-colored pug running at full tilt. Everyone in the area froze to watch the dog as it cut through the cars but only one person made a move towards it.

“No way,” Tim breathed at Bernard’s side, putting out a hand with a face liked he’d seen a ghost. “Cardigan?!”

The dog slowed, looked back to Tim, then changed direction to come his way.

With a mystified look, Tim crouched down as the little creature reached him, putting tiny paws on the knees of his expensive slacks, tail wagging with glee. “You’re still…oh, wait.” Tim hooked a finger into the dog’s collar, pulling it up so he could read the name tag. “Cardigan III. I guess that makes more sense.”

There was a sadness in those words and Bernard instinctively gripped the other man’s shoulder in comfort, despite not understanding its source. Experience told him that the answers would unveil in time anyway, even in the next thirty—

“Cardy! There you are. I’m so sorry, sirs.” A student cut around the bushes, holding a leash in his hands and panting. “He got away from me.”

“No problem, sport,” Tim said as he rose to his feet. One hand slipped into his pocket, giving him a look of perfectly amicable suburban dad. He was channeling serious Brucie Wayne energy without even knowing it. “I can’t think this is the same Cardy I used to play fetch with when I was a student here.”

“Oh, no, sir,” the boy answered, attaching the leash to Cardy’s collar. “Cardigan Sr. and Jr. passed away a long time ago. This is Cardy the Third.”

Tim sighed, absorbing that information with downturned eyes. The boy picked up Cardy the Third and carried the dog back to the side of the building, promising treats if he would just be more agreeable.

“Cardy Sr. and I were really close,” Tim said to Bernard as they linked hands, following the people who were heading to the building's front entrance. “We had a lot of adventures together, even if I didn’t want him chasing me around.”

“Maybe we should get a dog?”

“We have enough animals to feed as it is. And I’m not just talking about the cats.”

Bernard just laughed and squeezed his hand tighter.

—-

The opening presentation was unimpressive, taken up mostly by a PowerPoint that described Brentwood’s prestigious history. They also learned about the various alumni of Brentwood who went on to create successful careers. Bernard could imagine the school board grinding their teeth that they couldn’t add one Timothy Drake-Wayne to that list. But hey, no school could.

Though one man that was bragged in the slides was a friend Tim sought out after they were allowed to mingle.

“Kip!” Tim pulled the equally short, though quite a bit thicker, male into a tight hug. Kip Kettering looked surprised by Tim’s enthusiasm.

“It’s great to see you too, Tim! Well, to see you in person and not in another Elites of Gotham magazine cover.”

Tim groaned, though that could remove his smile at the ribbing.

“No really, who would have thought our Tim Drake, wrangler of explosive dorm fights and hero to nerds everywhere would grow up to be a CEO? I bet your board meetings look like the war room scenes from the best action movies.”

“Being honest with you, they feel like that sometimes though usually I’m going to war against the rest of them.” Bernard and Kip both laughed. “I swear, they'll get maybe five more years out of me, then I’m quitting and becoming a househusband!”

That statement reminded Kip that they had skipped an important introduction. “Oh, you must be Bernard!” The two shook hands. “I saw the wedding announcement on LiveWire. Congrats to you both!”

“Thank,” Tim said, his smile like sunshine which told of how relieved he was by the positive response. “I’d wondered if I should invite you guys but…”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times, or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”

“What about you, though?” Tim asked, wrapping an arm around Bernard’s waist. “I never thought you’d end up a movie producer, but then again, it does track. You were always more critical of your movies than your taste in books.

Kip shrugged, not denying that. “Well, I graduated school with a tidy bit of money in my pockets so I thought, why not apply myself into something that interest me instead of a mindless computing degree. I guess you can’t really relate to that, can you?”

“Damn Kip, when did you get so brutal?”

“Since I moved out to Hollywood.”

“Hey, Timbo!” A boisterous baritone voice cut through the ruckus of the room, turning the attention of their group specifically. A very tall man shouldered his way through various bodies, his skin-tight clothing showing the cut of bulky muscles as he charged their way.

“Buzz Cohen,” Tim said, smirking at the approaching man where Kip grinned through an exasperated sigh. Tim put out a hand to shake but Buzz captured it and pulled the raven-haired man into a hug. "You sure look calm for a professional football player in a room of soccer-school alums."

“And you sure look respectable for a high school dropout!” Buzz clapped Tim on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise. A hit like that wasn’t anything Tim could take but he still faked like he was ready to fold in the knees. “You got adopted by a millionaire, took over his company, and you even got married all before we got to see you again!”

Tim elbowed Buzz in the ribs, trying to be gentle with it, but the other man still winced. Now free, Tim straightened himself out and went about the proper introduction. “Kip Ketterling, Buzz Cohen, this is my husband, Bernard. Bern, this is Kip and Buzz, some of my best friends while I went to Brentwood.”

“It’s nice to meet you to. And also, thank you. Now I know why Tim never mocked my name in school.”

“God damn it, Bernard.”

Bernard listened to Tim and his friends recount their adventures in Brentwood. He had already hear these stories from Tim but it was nice to hear the parts he had intentionally left out. Like his failed attempt at soccer tryout (likely on purpose) or his various run ins with their former housemother. They shared a mutual disappointment that a few of their group - Ali, Danny, or Wesley – hadn’t shown up to the party but that changed to making plans for their own friend reunion. Bernard was interest to see how they would get the leader of a former-terrorist sect and the leader of a country to come all the way to Bristol for pizza. Moreover, he wondered what Bruce would do if he found out.

The group eventually split up with talk about other classmates to check on. They swapped contact info and promises to actually stay in touch this time.

Tim had patrol that evening, so they made a quick pass through the crowd to check for anyone else he knew well enough, then took Bernard back outside through a different way. There was a part of the campus Bernard had been dying to see ever since Tim had told him the unabridged version of his time in all-boys school.

“So that’s the legendary bell-tower, huh?” He’d seen it from a distance when they were driving up but now that the sun was starting to set, it gave the neglected structure a creepy vibe. A perfect hiding spot for a family of Man-Bats looking to raise their daughter and new baby son.”

“Yeah, this is the place. I snuck up with Cardigan Sr. and after we scared the Man-Bats out, I had to save the pooch from himself. And save my skin by doing so.”

They ventured closer but stopped when they noticed a collection of boys hanging around the entrance. Tim made a noise and when Bernard looked his way, his husband was looking at the kids intensely. “The boy with the blond hair; I think I know him.” He was the smallest of the group, light blonde hair and a sunny smile. “I think that’s Aaron Langstrom.”

“You mean the-” someone was approaching them “the science couple’s kid?”

“Yeah, the Langstroms worked with WayneTech for a bit, so I got to know him.”

“Good evening to you, Mr. Drake.”

Even Bernard had heard the old man coming up behind them, but he could see where it might freak you out if you were one of his students. He moved like a ghost.

Dean Nederland was perhaps some kind of immortal because Tim had showed him pictures of the Brentwood headmaster and he looked exactly the same, not an extra wrinkle to be seen even after ten years. Cardy the Third was at his side, pawing at his owner’s ankle. Bernard wondered idyll why the dean was walking his dog now when he had an entire group of alumni to be schmoozing for donations.

“Hello, sir. I hope you’ve been well.”

“I have Mr. Drake. Or is it Drake-Wayne, now?”

“Drake-Dowd, Sir,” Tim smiled, clasping his ex-headmaster’s hand firmly. “This is my husband, Bernard.”

“Hello,” Bernard greeted, given a handshake as well. The man’s grip was surprisingly firm for someone of his years. He was putting ‘vampire’ at the top of his theory list.

“I am pleased to meet you, young man. I hope you have found our Brentwood Academy lives up to its reputation. Perhaps you might consider sending your own son here someday.”

“I’m truly impressed by the place, sir. It’s a magnificent facility and Tim has told me of his many fond memories as a student.” This got a smile from the dean who nodded at Tim in something that could be pleasure or gratitude.

But Tim turned the discussion back to the previous point. “So that is Aaron Langstrom? I hadn’t realized he was old enough to attend here.”

“Yes, he began his first year with us this fall and has been a delightful child.” The dean sighed with an aged kind of happiness. “He was here for the tour and in the first five minutes, declared he felt very at home in our Brentwood. Hearing that was a great joy for me, I don’t mind telling you.”

Given that the meta-human had once spent his nesting years in that very belltower, Bernard could imagine why he found it “homey”. He wasn’t about to mention that to the dean, though. Let him have his happiness.

Dean Nederland spoke with them for a few minutes more before bidding them good night and continue to walk his peppy dog who did let Tim and Bernard pet him one last time. The moment they disappeared, though, the couple was approached by an entirely new group.

“Excuse me?” Aaron and his friends had made their way over, wearing expressions of hesitation but also curiosity. “Are you Tim Wayne? I’d seen you in one of the old school photos.”

“Yes, that’d be me.”

“Oh cool,” said another boy. “Then, you were the guy that saved that guy who was kidnapped by that casino guy, right?”

“Uh, yes I was.”

“So you were also the guy that had a demon explode in his dorm room and cut up a dude who was protecting that Arabian prince?”

“Well, yes, but he was actually --”

“And you were here for when the original Sk8Bratz crashed through the campus gates and broke the front door?” “Idiot, we told you, it was the side gate and they broke the lions.” “Nuh uh.”

Bernard grinned at his husband. “Seems your reputation as a center of chao didn’t start in Grieves, hon.”

“No, it started when I was born,” Tim replied with a sly grin. And after quieting the bickering boys, set to work untangling their many stories of his Brentwood years and laying out the various cover stories he’d crafted for such situations.

The sun was fully set by the time they left the Brentwood Academy grounds, though they still had one more stop to make in Bristol Commons before heading to Wayne Manor.

“I’d see this place all the time when I was doing patrols around school,” Tim said as they took their orders and settled into an empty booth in the SunDollar coffee shop. “I was too busy to check it out when I’d just started classes and towards the end, I was under house arrest, so I never did get the chance.”

Bernard took a sip. “Sorry to break it to you, honey, but if it was just like this back when you were a student, you weren’t missing out on much.”

Tim took a sip, agreed to his point, then kept drinking it anyway.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, holding hands over the tabletop. Until Tim said, “I keep thinking about when the dean said.”

“About us having a son someday? Because I’m pretty sure I put into the prenup that I wanted a girl as my first child, so don’t go buying any blazers or ugly ties in the near future.”

Tim waved that away, not even interacting with Bernard’s joke. “Specifically, about sending my own child to Brentwood.”

Bernard frowned. “You’d want to send them to boarding school? After how miserable that always made you?”

“I wasn’t thinking they’d have to live there like I did. They could just be day students and live at home. It’s just…that made me think about if I really liked or really hated my Brentwood experience as a whole. Even now, after all these years, I have mixed feelings about that time in my life. There was a lot of dangerous things I faced there, a lot of drama from outside the walls and inside of them. But there were also some really joyful moments. Experiences that I might not have bothered with until I was forced to act like a teenager and grew to kind of like it.” He sipped his coffee again, gazing out the window towards the silhouette of the belltower. “The guys there were all so different from my Gotham Heights friends, or my teammates, but they still made me feel like one of them. They taught me to feel like ‘one of the guys’ and I really did love that.”

Bernard grinned at his adorable husband. But a tiny, territorial part of his heart made him ask “Did you like going to Brentwood more than Grieves?”

“Hell no.” Tim turned to smirk at his husband. “Not just the fact that I met the love of my life at Grieves, but I got to actually be a kid there; no secrets, no Robin, no double life to get in the way. The Brentwood guys helped me learn what it meant to be a kid. But you and Darla…you made me see what it meant to be Tim Drake. You still do that for me, every day.”

Bernard grinned, knowing it was all kinds of mushy but not caring enough to stop. He let himself be pulled into a searing kiss, much hotter than this lukewarm coffee. He laced his other hand into Tim’s, delighted by the cut of the wedding band that he’d put there not long ago.

He hadn’t gotten to brag on any of Tim’s ex-suitors but that was okay.

They still had the Gotham High reunion two months from now.

---

This feels kind of more like a Brentwood Boys fic then TimBer but I love that stretch of Tim's comics. I couldn't NOT overdo it. Sorry if anyone else wanted to see Ali, Danny, or Wesley. Maybe someday in the future they can have Brentwood Boys reunion part 2.