This story would not exist without rotasha. Several months ago, they tried a Battison-inspired makeup and gave me the idea for this one-shot. So, thank you and Happy Birthday! I hope you have a wonderful day! Everyone, go check out their stories, you will not be disappointed!
If you see any grammatical mistakes, pretend that you didn't! Ro normally corrects my stories, but I wanted this one to be a surprise for them. Let's hope Grammarly hasn't let me down!
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or any other DC characters.
Bruce had just left for the evening. The loud sounds of his car exiting the Cave grew more distant as the seconds ticked by.
It had only been a couple of weeks since Bruce had begun his self-detrimental crusade to save all of Gotham, and despite Alfred's aversion to the situation, he couldn't help but find himself growing accustomed to the routine he'd established with Batman.
Alfred would, from time to time, provide Bruce with information or suggestions if he ever needed assistance. But for the larger part of the evening, while Batman was saving Gotham, Alfred worked on restoring and cleaning any of the devices or suits Batman had used during the previous patrol. Alfred's workload was therefore based on the amount of trouble Bruce had run into.
The quieter nights were Alfred's favorites. It wasn't because Alfred had less work to do; rather it was because it meant that Bruce had been relatively safe during patrol. Unfortunately, no matter the condition of Batman's gadgets or the state in which he returned, Alfred could never avoid his most dreaded task.
It had taken a while to find the right products for the job, but after a lot of trial and error, Alfred had finally found the best way to remove the residue of the eyeshadow Bruce so stubbornly chose to wear under his cowl.
Alfred had never cursed as loud as he had during the first night Bruce had gone out as Batman. He'd come down to the Cave a little after midnight. Without a routine and not knowing when his ward would return, he'd ended up nervously pacing the room. That's when he'd noticed the mess left on the beautiful marble sink. Eyeshadow palettes had been left out on the countertop. And Good Lord; the state of the sink! The black powder covered every single visible surface. Alfred had only realized why Bruce had chosen that particular brand of make-up after unsuccessfully trying to wipe it off with some water and an old rag.
With time and practice, he'd found better cleaning solutions to counter the waterproof eyeshadow. Powdered bleach made the make-up easier to wipe off and assured that the sink wasn't permanently stained. Alfred had then gone on to buy Bruce some oil-based make-up removing products after getting the opinion of a sales associate at the nearest beauty retailer. It had been necessary after watching Bruce struggle to remove the grease-like stains around his eyes. Alfred had been worried the poor man's skin would fall off based solely on how red and irritated it had gotten.
That night, as he cleaned up the mess Bruce had left behind, Alfred couldn't help himself from complaining a little bit. "We simply have to be dramatic, don't we, Master Bruce," Alfred grumbled as he continued to furiously wipe the sink. "The cowl isn't enough? Are we truly convinced the criminals of Gotham would figure out Batman's secret identity based on the bags under your eyes?"
Alfred had one of the best poker faces Bruce had ever encountered. And that was saying a lot given the business Bruce was in. But figuring out the cause for the poker face had never been an issue because Alfred always let him know exactly what he was thinking. He did so through sarcastic commentary. Only on a handful of occasions had Bruce been forced to figure out why Alfred had been hiding his real emotions. And even at that, the truth eventually came out because Alfred would end up not being able to bite his tongue and he'd vehemently disagree with Bruce.
Those heated disagreements had been far and few, but Bruce remembered them clearly. The worse one had been when Bruce announced his plan to become Batman. There had been concern about his physical safety, the mental toll it would take on him to live a double life, and the horrors he was bound to encounter. More recently, it had been the same argument after Bruce had decided to allow Dick to join him on patrol. Bruce had tried explaining to Alfred why it was important to let Dick become Robin; that the boy needed it. But Alfred had loudly disagreed; he thought Dick needed a normal childhood, not one fighting crime.
Despite being at odds, they'd agreed to never argue about Dick when he was present. Alfred also made sure to never let it show how worried he was every time Batman and Robin left for the night.
That's why tonight, Bruce had been taken by surprise when Alfred didn't try to maintain his poker face. Dick had asked if it was possible to modify his domino mask so he could wear eyeshadow underneath it, similar to what Bruce did under his cowl.
"I'm not sure it's necessary, Master Dick," Alfred said, frowning as he spoke. "It'll take you longer to get in and out of uniform and your skin might react badly to the harshness of the products."
Dick patiently listened but it was obvious that he could not be deterred. He seemed genuinely excited to wear the eyeshadow. "I know it's not necessary; Bruce designed the mask to keep my identity a secret," Dick explained.
He seemed unaware that Alfred was irritated by the situation. Bruce could only tell because he'd known the man his entire life.
"I just think it would be cool if Batman and Robin were matching. That way, criminals would know that we're partners! And I think the blackness around Batman's eyes is really cool!"
"Master Dick, I can promise you that Gotham is aware that Batman and Robin are partners. I don't think you need to worry about that," Alfred commented as he handed Dick his domino mask. They'd been suiting up and getting ready for patrol when Dick had initiated the conversation.
"I promise to clean up after myself! You can show me how to do it, that way you'll know it's been done properly."
Interesting. For some reason, Dick's promise seemed to make Alfred consider accepting. Then Dick hit Alfred with his puppy eyes and Bruce knew right there and then that the boy was going to win.
Bruce was already in his costume, and he'd been sitting at his computer looking over some files as he waited for Dick to get dressed. He subtly glanced over to the sink where he always applied his make-up. Lo and behold, the sink was covered with the black residue of his eyeshadow. Bruce had never realized how messy of a process the application was.
Of course, he thought to himself, the reason he never noticed was that the sink was always spotless when he returned from patrol. Alfred must have been cleaning up after him since day one.
Bruce recalled the early days when his skin had become incredibly irritated after he spent several minutes trying to scrub the make-up off his face. The eyeshadow he wore was waterproof; he'd selected it because it was able to withstand the muggy climate of Gotham. What he'd failed to think about was that it could therefore also resist someone trying to rinse off the residue with water. That meant it took time and effort to keep the marble sink polished.
He made a mental note to start cleaning up after himself before leaving for patrol. He hated that he hadn't noticed the extra work he'd created for Alfred. The man already did so much to take care of him and Dick.
"That's very kind of you, Master Dick. But I can clean up," Alfred tried to argue but there was no winning.
"Please, Alfie! I promise I'll do a good job. I really want to try the eyeshadow," Dick pleaded. But it wasn't necessary, Alfred had finally caved.
"Very well, let's get you set up. We don't want to make Master Bruce wait any longer," Alfred replied. He waved Dick over to the sink and handed him the tools he needed to apply the make-up.
Dick beamed with delight. "Thank you! I won't let you down!" he said, running over to join Alfred. "I'm going to look just like Bruce!"
"Indeed," Alfred replied. He grinned as he watched Dick excitedly get ready.
Dick arrived at Wayne Manor much earlier than he'd expected. With little to no traffic, it had been a quick drive over from Blüdhaven. He'd chosen this time and day specifically because he knew that Jason would be out of school, that Alfred would be doing the weekly groceries, and that Bruce would be at work for at least a couple more hours.
Despite not having been home for quite some time, Dick easily fell back into his old routine. He still had a spare key, so he let himself in. He removed his shoes, placed them neatly in the corner like Alfred had taught him to do all those years ago, and then hung his coat on the hook that had always been reserved for him.
The next step, however, was unfortunately not part of his routine, but Dick was hoping to change that. He'd neglected to spend time with Jason since Bruce had adopted him and he knew that wasn't fair. He thought a good first step would be to chat with his new brother and see if they could get to know each other without Bruce looming over them.
The main floor of the Manor was silent and seeing as Jason hadn't walked out of any of the rooms to check who had just entered the house, Dick assumed he was somewhere else. Dick's top guesses were that Jason was either in his bedroom or downstairs in the Cave.
Hoping that Jason also liked to spend time in the Cave when he was home alone, Dick decided to make his way towards the study and secret entrance it housed.
It didn't take long for Dick to arrive at his destination and when the doors closed behind him, he heard the tell-tale signs that someone was inside the Cave.
Jason seemed to be training. When he came into view, Dick immediately recognized the series of exercises Jason was doing. They were repetitions that Bruce had made him do day in and day out all those years ago.
"You pack quite the punch," Dick said as a way to reveal his presence to Jason. The kid had been so absorbed in his workout that he hadn't noticed Dick's arrival.
Dick watched as Jason whirled around in surprise, probably mentally kicking himself for not having been aware of his surroundings. It was something else Bruce had drilled into them.
"Yeah, I know," Jason replied. Although Jason's retort had been cocky, it was all surface-level bravado. Dick could tell by Jason's body language that he seemed unsure of what to do. Dick couldn't blame him.
When Dick had first discovered that Jason had been given the mantle of Robin, he'd been mad at Bruce for endangering another kid. Jason, having witnessed the argument between Batman and Nightwing, had thought Dick's anger extended to him. There hadn't been many opportunities for Dick to rectify the mistake. So, of course, arriving unannounced in the Cave would leave Jason on edge.
Jason was still facing him, but he reached out with his left hand to steady the punching bag that was still swinging. Dick needed to put him at ease. So, as he casually walked toward Jason, he settled on a conversation that shouldn't ruffle any feathers.
"How's your training going?"
"Good," Jason replied. He turned away from Dick and started putting away the equipment he'd been using. Jason didn't seem to want to elaborate any further; Dick needed to try a different topic.
"Are you enjoying school?" he tried asking, hoping to get more than a one-word response. He'd heard from Alfred that Bruce had recently enrolled Jason in a new school and that he liked it. But Dick could play dumb and pretend he didn't know that information.
"Yeah, it's okay," Jason said. He was still avoiding looking at Dick.
Three words; that was a new record. "What's your favorite class? I really enjoyed Biology when I was your age."
"My English class is fun. I like the books we're reading, and the teacher isn't boring," Jason admitted, finally turning around to glance at Dick.
Okay, Dick could work with that. "What book are you reading right now?"
"We're reading Shakespeare. We get to pick from a list which play we want to read. I'm the only one that chose Richard III.
"I've never read that one. We had to read Romeo and Juliet," Dick commented, which earned him an eye roll from Jason.
"Everyone chose either Romeo and Juliet or Macbeth. Just because they're more known doesn't mean they're any better," Jason passionately stated.
There it was. That connection Dick was hoping for. He found the key to unlocking Jason. They'd never had a conversation like this; Dick was finally starting to see the Jason that Bruce had fallen in love with.
"Are you enjoying Richard III," Dick asked.
"It's so good! In my opinion, it contains the most underrated soliloquy out of all of Shakespeare's work; it's a heck of a banger," Jason exclaimed.
Dick couldn't hold back the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. He'd never heard a historical tragedy described as a "banger". But he loved that Jason loved these kinds of things. "I'll take your word for it," Dick said as he flashed Jason a smile, encouraging him to continue talking.
"Our end-of-term project is to reproduce a scene and then present it in front of the class. We also need to submit an essay detailing the symbolism and themes present in the scene. I've already chosen the scene and finished writing my essay. I just need to practice my lines. I decided to do the soliloquy from Act 1, Scene 1."
"That's cool!" Dick replied, genuinely interested, although he had no idea what that scene was about. He wasn't a fan of Shakespeare but he could tell Jason was passionate about it. "Did you make or buy any costumes?"
"Alfred took me to the thrift store and we found everything I needed," Jason excitedly told him.
"What about make-up? What look do you need for your scene? Any special effects?" Dick may not be a theater nerd, but he could paint a face. Maybe he could use this to spend time with Jason.
"No, I don't need anything fancy. I probably won't use any make-up honestly. The costume is enough. The soliloquy is the real showstopper," Jason answered, effectively putting a stop to Dick's plan.
"Oh okay," Dick couldn't stop himself from answering a tad dejectedly. He realized his mistake when he saw the small look of confusion and nervousness that flashed across Jason's face. Shit. Jason thought Dick was mad at him for shooting down the make-up idea. Dick could still fix this. "Well, if you want, I could show you a few tricks. Just in case you change your mind."
"Sure," Jason replied in a hesitant tone. Jason didn't look like he thought the make-up skills would be useful later on in life, but Dick hoped he would change his mind. He didn't want to pass up the chance to hang out with Jason.
"Trust me, you never know when good make-up skills could come in handy," Dick tried to reassure Jason as he maneuvered the boy over to the sink in the corner of the Cave. "And I'm the best teacher you'll ever find. Bruce is terrible when it comes to applying make-up; I tried helping him but it's a lost cause."
That earned him a laugh from Jason. "I believe you. He could just slam his face in the eyeshadow palette, and it would give him the same effect."
Dick erupted in laughter. "You should have seen how he applied make-up when I was a kid."
"Trust me, I heard the horror stories from Alfred."
"At least he cleans up after himself now. I'm pretty sure Batman would have been murdered by Alfred at some point if he continued to mess up the sink," Dick said jokingly. They'd arrived in front of the sink in question. Dick let go of Jason's arm and reached up to rummage around in the cupboard. He found all of Bruce's make-up, his brushes, and the cosmetic remover. Bruce had expanded his repertoire since Dick had been Robin. There wasn't just black eyeshadow; there were a lot of different products. Bruce probably used them to cover up any bruises or scars.
Jason was standing slightly behind Dick and from the reflection in the mirror, Dick could tell he seemed to be nervous. Dick wasn't entirely sure why; he thought that things had been going well so far.
"Have you ever tried Batman's look?" Dick asked, turning around to face Jason.
"You mean the black eyeshadow?" Jason asked. "No."
"Want to?"
"Why? I have a mask with lenses, I don't need make-up," Jason answered, but he didn't sound convincing.
"So did I, but I begged Bruce to modify my mask so I could use the make-up," Dick admitted as he leaned back against the sink.
"Why?" Jason seemed confused. "Isn't it hard to remove because of how waterproof it is?"
"Not if you use the right products," Dick explained. "But I wanted to match with Bruce when I was younger. And if I'm being honest, it made me feel like a badass."
"Wasn't being Robin badass enough for you?" Jason asked, a small snicker escaping his lips.
"Sure. But the make-up completed the look and gave me a confidence boost."
Jason seemed to ponder Dick's words. He was clearly debating if the make-up was worth the effort.
"Humor me? Let's try it," Dick said, hoping that Jason would indulge him. Now that Dick had gotten the idea in his head, he really wanted to try it out. He was enjoying his time with Jason, and this would prolong their afternoon together.
"Fine. But I'm not making any promises about going out on patrol looking like I've been punched in the face," Jason retorted, but it was all bark and no bite.
"Deal!" Dick replied enthusiastically. "Be right back."
Dick ran over to grab one of the chairs near the main desk and wheeled it over. He motioned for Jason to take a seat as he prepared all the items he needed. For the next ten minutes, Dick simultaneously applied the make-up while walking Jason through the best ways to do so. He made sure to warn Jason about which products to use to remove the eyeshadow. Dick also told Jason to keep an eye out for any rashes; he might be sensitive to certain products.
"Ready to see the final look?" Dick asked excitedly. When he'd started applying the eyeshadow, he'd turned the chair around so Jason would be surprised by the transformation.
"Sure," Jason replied cautiously. He started to spin the chair around towards the mirror, but Dick suddenly reached out an arm and stopped him.
"Wait! I forgot the best part," Dick exclaimed. "Hold on!" he said before running off towards the locker room.
Although Bruce didn't like to admit it; he was a sentimental man. Dick had no doubt his old Robin costume had been tucked away somewhere in the Cave. Jason's Robin costume, although similar in style, was a tad different and Dick could tell what modifications Batman had made for the new version. One of those changes had been the eye mask. Jason had mentioned his having lenses; Dick wanted him to see the look with his old mask. Being able to see the grungy make-up under the mask would give the full Batman effect.
It didn't take Dick long to find what he needed. He ran back towards the sink where Jason was patiently waiting. He grabbed a tube of glue that was also in the cupboard and applied it along the edges of his old mask.
"Look up and hold still," Dick softly said to Jason.
Jason did as he was told, allowing Dick to successfully place the mask on him.
"Okay! You can turn around now!"
Jason spun his chair and stood up to look in the mirror. He silently stared at himself.
"What do you think?" Dick prompted, anxious to hear Jason's opinion.
Dick's question seemed to rouse Jason from his daze. Jason gently raised his hand to his face and traced the edges of the mask. After a couple of seconds of doing this motion, a smile broke out on Jason's face.
"I look so cool," Jason exclaimed as he continued to happily stare at his reflection.
Dick agreed, nodding his head in response. The make-up suited Jason, but the smile on his face was the best part.
"So, are you wearing it on patrol tonight?" Dick asked, but he already knew what Jason's answer would be.
Tim eagerly closed the door to his bedroom and threw his sweater across the room, not caring where it landed. Today had been a shit show and he was glad to be back home. For once, he didn't have any pressing Wayne Enterprise tasks to finish, and seeing as the world wasn't ending, Tim wanted to indulge in a little downtime.
He had plans to meet up to watch movies with Conner, Bart, and Cassie later that night. Until then, he figured he would just laze about.
Tim removed his cellphone from his pocket and looked at all the messages that he'd missed in the group chat while he'd been working.
CASSIE: Are we still on for tonight?
BART: only if you bring some snacks
KON: nice try, we agreed you're on your own when it comes to food
CASSIE: Yeah, stop mooching off of us!
BART: what about team spirit and sharing
KON: do I look like I'm made of money
CASSIE: Bart's not the one dating a millionaire's son!
BART: no but your boyfriend does
CASSIE: Oh! Jinx! :D
KON: not sure it's worth celebrating that you two are having the exact same thought...
CASSIE: I think it shows our team spirit ;)
BART: you know what they say, great minds think alike
CASSIE: Okay, I wouldn't go that far
Tim rolled his eyes at their exchange. Of course, none of them had actually confirmed they'd be attending tonight, but if you read between the lines, it was obvious.
TIM: I'll try to convince Alfred to let me bring some of the cookies he baked yesterday. But if someone in my family finds out I took them and I'm murdered for it, this team spirit better plan me a good funeral.
As he sent off the message, Tim walked toward his bed and flung himself onto it. He immediately groaned when his ribs connected with a hard object. He quickly rolled over and off of whatever he'd landed on.
"What the hell," Tim muttered under his breath as he looked at the small box that was laying on his bed.
He hadn't looked before leaping (rule number twelve of being Robin) since he didn't normally keep stuff on his bed. He had a tendency to throw things on the floor, but he always kept his sleeping area tidy. Tim stared at the box in confusion. It was wrapped in dark brown paper and his name was scrawled on the top in black marker.
He didn't recognize the penmanship and that worried him. Had someone come to the Manor to drop this off and then Alfred had left it on his bed? Or was someone playing a prank on him? He lived with a family that were all masters of disguise; it wouldn't be ridiculous to assume one of them had purposely changed their handwriting in order to confuse him.
Tim carefully stood up and grabbed the box. It hadn't detonated when he'd jumped on it, so he assumed it was safe to handle.
Alfred might know who had left the box on his bed. The man knew everything that went on in the house; even when one of the Bats tried so desperately to hide stuff from him.
Seeing as it was nearly time for dinner, Tim knew Alfred would be busy cooking in the kitchen. That's exactly where Tim found himself a couple of minutes later.
Tim entered the room, asking Alfred a question in lieu of a greeting. "Did anyone stop by the Manor today?"
"The doorbell didn't ring a single time, Master Tim," Alfred replied, unsurprised by Tim's sudden appearance.
"Who's home right now?" Tim continued to question.
"Master Bruce is still at work and Master Damian has been in his room since I picked him up from school."
"Thanks, Alfred," Tim replied.
"Always delighted to be your personal search engine," Alfred said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.
Tim didn't suspect Bruce of leaving the box on his bed, it wasn't his style. But Damian, on the other hand, was most likely the culprit. This could be part of an elaborate plan.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Tim quickly made his way back upstairs. All the bedrooms were on the second floor. While Tim's room was on the right side of the hallway near Dick's room, Damian's was nestled on the left side near the master bedroom and Jason's unused room.
The door to Damian's bedroom was closed, which meant he was inside. Tim knew better than to barge in, so he knocked.
"Go away," Damian yelled dismissively and loudly from inside the room.
"You don't even know who it is," Tim couldn't help himself from retorting.
"And now I do, so go away."
"You don't even know what I want," Tim replied, trying anything to get Damian to let him in.
"Would you just... If it's truly of importance, I'll come to see you later," Damian answered, sounding flustered as he stumbled over his words.
It was incredibly unlike Damian to be at a loss for words. If Tim didn't know any better, he'd say Damian was hiding something.
Tim grabbed the handle of the door, luckily finding it unlocked, and walked into the room. The lights were on, and Titus was resting on top of Damian's neatly made bed. Tim was surprised Damian let his pets on his bed. It posed a risk of the comforter getting dirty and Alfred would absolutely despise that.
Stepping into the room a little further, Tim turned his head and noticed that Damian was in his ensuite bathroom. Damian seemed lost in concentration as he furiously scrubbed at the sink with a towel. The pristine white sink was covered in some sort of fine black powder and despite Damian's best efforts, it didn't seem to be going anywhere.
Tim took another step forward, his footsteps now louder, which finally caught Damian's attention.
"Get out!" Damian yelled as he whipped his head around to stare down Tim.
Damian's eyelids were covered in the same substance that had overtaken the sink. Tim immediately put two and two together.
"I think Bruce keeps a strong make-up remover in the Cave,'' he said nonjudgmentally. He chose to ignore Damian's demand to leave.
Tim could tell Damian had been trying to recreate the same make-up Batman wore underneath his cowl. He knew Dick and Jason used to do the same when they were Robin, even if it was unnecessary as the original masks Bruce had designed were enough to conceal their identities. Tim never partook in the tradition, mainly because it reminded Bruce too much of Jason, but also because no one ever taught him how to do it or gave him the necessary tools.
He'd tried to do it once by himself and it had been an absolute mess. Soon after having applied the eyeshadow, his skin had broken out in a rash. He'd learned the hard way that he needed to use a specific brand of make-up as he was allergic to an ingredient found in most cosmetics.
Damian continued to stare at Tim. He seemed like he was stuck at a crossroad between deciding to yell at Tim or to take his advice.
"Todd gifted you with a gift as well?" Damian asked, an eyebrow raised in question. He was looking at the box in Tim's hand.
"It's not from you?" Tim replied in surprise.
"Why would I give you a gift? The only time I am forced to do so is on your birthday."
Tim rolled his eyes instead of replying. Knowing the gift was from Jason didn't make Tim feel any less stressed. Giving in to curiosity, he threw caution to the wind. He quickly ripped off the wrapping paper and removed the lid from the box. Inside was a make-up brush and some hypoallergenic make-up products.
There was also a note. It wasn't folded and Tim immediately recognized Jason's polished handwriting. This proved that he'd purposefully changed his penmanship to throw off Tim.
Use this whenever you feel like connecting with Bruce's dramatic emo side. Just clean up after yourself, Alfred doesn't need more work. That includes the sink and the pig sty you call your room.
"Tt. How unoriginal. Todd gave us the same gifts," Damian said in a judgemental tone, but he was clearly straining his neck to see what the note said.
Tim had no intention of showing Damian the contents of Jason's letter. But he was also curious to see what Damian's note said.
"I'll go grab the cleaning products before Alfred catches wind of the mess you've made," Tim said as he closed the box back up.
Damian simply scoffed in reply. But seeing as he didn't clap back with a snarky comment, Tim assumed this was Damian's way of showing he was grateful.
Tim knew better than to leave the box behind, so he took it with him as he made his way to the Cave.
For as long as Tim had been Robin, he'd known that Bruce kept all his cosmetics and cleaning products in a cupboard over the main sink in the Cave. He'd watched countless times as Bruce vigorously scrubbed the sink after he applied the make-up. He'd never forgotten to wash it and Alfred had never once offered to do it; which Tim had come to remark as being strange since Alfred always insisted on washing things his way.
Thankfully, after years of watching Bruce use it, Tim grabbed the bottle that he knew was the perfect product to efficiently remove all the stains from Damian's sink. There'd be no trace left of what had happened in that bathroom. Only Tim knew and as he made his way back upstairs, he wondered if there was any way he could use this information to his advantage. Damian already had blackmail material on him, it was time for Tim to update his own arsenal.
Despite his best efforts, when Tim walked into Damian's room, all schemes of revenge flew out of his head. Right before Damian noticed his presence, Tim caught a glimpse of his brother staring at himself in the mirror, a delicate smile on his face. His fingers were gently touching under his eyes. He was admiring the eyeshadow he'd put on.
Against his better judgment, Tim suddenly decided to, once again, be nice to Damian.
"You should wear the eyeshadow on patrol tonight," Tim told him as he walked over to the ensuite bathroom. "Dick and Jason used to do it. You could borrow one of their old masks, that way the make-up will be visible. I'm sure Bruce has kept them somewhere; he's a sentimental man."
Damian seemed stunned by Tim's confession. Tim wasn't surprised Damian wasn't buying into his niceness. It's something they rarely did willingly. Normally they had to be encouraged by their brothers or Bruce to treat each other with kindness.
Damian shook his head, dismissing Tim's idea. He then grabbed the products that Tim had brought back up with him. "You can leave now," Damian told him.
"I'm serious, you should do it. The eyeshadow makes Robin seem more intimidating. It pairs nicely with Batman," Tim confessed.
"It does?" Damian said, turning his head back around to face Tim. Now Damian sounded less skeptical and more intrigued. Of course, the little demon would want a way to make Robin scarier and less like the beacon of hope it was meant to be.
"Oh, definitely," Tim confirmed. "Criminals will for sure run away in terror when they see how atrocious your make-up skills are compared to Batman. You look like a raccoon that just got caught with his head in a trash can."
Being generous and helpful didn't mean Tim wasn't allowed to laugh at Damian's expense.
"Drake!" Damian roared as Tim made a beeline to exit the bedroom. Titus, still on the bed, stirred awake and started barking in confusion in response to Damian's shouts.
Tim chuckled to himself as he ran down the hallway back to his bedroom. Maybe it was worth going to meet up with Cassie, Bart, and Conner now rather than after dinner. He could avoid Damian trying to kill him while they ate.
He also knew to bring Jason's gift with him. It would be foolish to leave it in his room unprotected. Tim knew that Conner had experimented with make-up before. Maybe he could show Tim how best to apply the eyeshadow. Tim thought it would be useful in case he ever decided to follow in Bruce and his brother's footsteps.
Surprise, Ro! Not only did you give me the idea for the story, but you also helped me with all the Shakespeare information. Your opinion on that "banger of a soliloquy" will forever live on through Jason! Happy Birthday!