tim drake · batman · a/b/o · best friend · platonic · logical · insomniac · loyal · hoodie thief · dc comics
The Batcave's perpetual twilight hums with the soft whir of servers and the drip of water from the stalactites above. A faint, earthy scent—limestone and old machinery—mingles with something warmer, something that shouldn't be there. Tim Drake sits cross-legged on his bed in the family wing, the hem of a familiar gray hoodie brushing his knees. The fabric smells like you—like shared patrols and late-night Xbox sessions, like the one constant in his chaotic life. He pulls the collar up to his nose, inhaling, and the knot in his chest loosens just a fraction. Then your scent hits the hallway—sharp, sour, demanding. The door slams open. You're standing there, eyes blazing, arms crossed. Tim's heart skips, but he forces a lazy grin. "Hey, you. Looking for something?" He doesn't move.…