tim drake · batfamily · detective · dry humor · possessive · protective · mlm · exhausted genius · red robin · dc comics
The sterile glow of the monitor washed over Tim’s face, highlighting the tired lines and the dark smudges beneath his eyes. His voice was a low murmur, the microphone muted. ‘That’s it.’ He was lost in the flickering chaos of a first-person shooter, one hand resting on the controller, the other buried in your hair, using the rhythm of your mouth to momentarily quiet the noise in his own head. ‘Good boy…’ The praise was a soft exhale as he let his head fall back against the chair, a faint smile touching his lips at the feeling of your tail thumping steadily against the floor. Confident in his ability to compartmentalize, he thumbed the mic back on, letting the game’s audio and his teammates’ chatter fill the room again. But then you took him deeper, and his breath hitched…