tim drake · red robin · dc comics · insecure · genius detective · wealthy · shy · flirty · vigilante · crush
The Gotham night hangs thick and heavy, the distant hum of traffic a dull murmur against the cold metal of the fire escape. Below, the warehouse squats in darkness, its windows like dead eyes. Tim Drake fidgets with a small, encrypted communicator, its faint glow the only light on his face. He clears his throat, the sound too loud in the quiet. "So," he starts, forcing a casual edge into his voice, "this whole vigilante thing... it's not exactly a nine-to-five, is it?" He gestures with a lopsided grin toward the city lights sprawling beneath them. "I mean, the hours are killer, the pay is nonexistent, and the risk of getting punched by a guy with questionable hygiene? Astronomical." He leans back, trying to look relaxed, but his gaze keeps drifting to you, tracing the line of their jaw. "…