A/N:

WARNING Chapter Contains: Brief Explicit Sexual Content (at the beginning)

Skip to '"I'm sorry!" Tim did, indeed, sound very sorry.' if you don't wish to read it.

~*~

Everyone had been warned.

Time and time again, both Dick and Jason had told the various people who stopped by their place that knocking was important (and polite) before barging in.

However, Damian had always invited himself in without a second thought, regardless of any door-locking that may have been done, and the others unfortunately took the lead from him. The worst that had happened was Stephanie walking in on them kissing once, and that was no big deal.

Each of them had individually assumed that Jason and Dick just didn't have sex — or at least not often enough to be any sort of risk. They had been right for a while, but now…well now they were mostly right. Sort of.

Well, actually, right now Dick's knuckles were white as he gripped the headboard tightly, biting back small sounds as he leaned his face against it. He rocked down harder against Jason's mouth as he straddled his face, and Jason's hands on his hips pulled him down even harder.

Dick gasped softly, and squeezed his cock to keep himself from coming.

He began riding Jason's face in earnest, and felt him moan against him. Jason had told him before how hot he found that, but Dick was still surprised by just how earnestly he seemed to mean that when he took a hand off of Dick's hip to touch himself.

Jason, for his part, was just trying his best to get Dick to keep making those little noises. For all he could be a loudmouth in every other part of his life, Dick still fucked like there was a little old lady in the next room he was afraid of offending.

Jason thought something was a little wrong with him that it turned him on more when Dick was trying so hard to be quiet. Well— there were a lot of things that were wrong with him, so maybe this was the least of his concerns.

Dick bit the hand that he'd clamped over his mouth to muffle his panting.

The bedroom door opened, and Dick whipped his head toward it, eyes wide. It slammed shut almost immediately, with a squeak from the intruder, but not before Dick caught a glimpse of Tim's mortified face.

"Jesus— Tim!" Dick scrambled none too gracefully off of Jason's face.

"I'm sorry!" Tim did, indeed, sound very sorry. More sorry for himself than for them, though.

He had retreated away from the door, and tried not to listen, but that was difficult when—

"Ow! My fuckin' neck. No, it's okay sweetheart— shit! SHIT."

There was a loud thunk, and then a blur, as someone ran from the bedroom straight across the hall into the bathroom.

Yeah. Jason had never been quiet.

Tim sat himself down on the couch, and ignored Dick as he heard him sneak past the back of the couch and into the kitchen. This was not how Tim imagined his afternoon going.

God, he needed more coffee; it was still too fucking early for him. Being awake during daylight hours was for workdays only, and even then…rough.

Jason came out of the bathroom, holding a wad of bloody tissues to his nose and slowly rolling his neck.

"Hun?" he called, when he heard Dick in the kitchen. "Could you make me a cup of tea too while you're in there?"

"Uh huh."

Tim suspected Dick hadn't been making himself tea at all, judging from the noises. It sounded like he was just puttering around picking up and putting down random objects, buying himself time in the other room by sounding busy before he had to face Tim.

Jason turned and saw Tim looking, and pointed at him accusingly.

"I'm sending you the fucking doctor bill if you broke my fucking neck."

"It's not broken," he protested. "And I didn't do it."

Jason glared, and stalked over into the living room, not bothering to go get a shirt. The kid could fucking deal — he'd grabbed sweatpants, that was good enough.

"It's your fault. Now what the fuck did you want? Must've been important for you to pick the fuckin' lock." He flopped down into the armchair next to the couch.

Tim blushed. His eyes kept finding their way to look at Jason's mouth, which was not something he wanted to think about, but he just couldn't stop. I mean, he had just been— "Oh, uh, it wasn't anything really important—" Yes, so that had become an unfortunate habit. It wasn't like he was the only one, and there wasn't usually any reason for it to be locked!

Jason already knew that though, and Tim could tell from the way he'd phrased the question that he already knew the answer he was going to get. Apparently that didn't make him any less pissy. Melodramatic bastard.

"Oh great, that's just what I wanted to hear! I'm so glad I almost broke my fucking nose and fucked up my neck over it!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"But here we are, nonetheless."

Jason removed the wad of tissues from his face, and gently dabbed at his nose a few times before finally seeming satisfied that it had stopped bleeding. He licked his lips, and caught Tim's eyes darting away. Again.

"Stop it," he snapped.

Tim blushed harder and stared fixedly at the coffee table. "What?"

"You know what. Stop."

"I'm not doing anything!"

Jason leant forward in his chair intimidatingly, and Tim finally met his gaze.

"Stop. Looking. At. My. Mouth. Timmy."

If Tim didn't know spontaneous human combustion was a myth, he'd be afraid he was in serious danger of it right now.

"Okay! Sorry!" He went back to concentrating very hard on the coffee table.

Jason relaxed back in his chair. "Christ, it's like you've never eaten someone out before. Ain't you and that clone boy a thing?" he asked, waving a hand vaguely.

Mortification was truly not a strong enough word for what Tim was feeling right now. This had to be a form of torture, right? Surely this whole afternoon qualified as cruel and unusual punishment.

"What I do in bed is not your business."

"Glad we agree," Jason said calmly, still seemingly unaffected by the crushing embarrassment that permeated the whole apartment. "But, you and the clone. You two a thing?"

"Uh...it's complicated. And Bruce doesn't know, so don't tell him."

"Oh yeah, 'cause me and the old man are real chatty," he said sarcastically. "He definitely already knows though," he added, seriously.

Tim put his face in his hands. "Just. Stay out of it and don't say anything."

"My lips are sealed." He looked over toward the kitchen, where Dick was still lurking, despite the fact that tea takes five minutes at most to make.

"Hey Dickie? If we've got any coffee still in the pot, it looks like the little birdie could use some. Don't bother to heat it up though."

Tim picked his head up, frowning. "That's just mean."

Jason put his hands out, as if to say 'what can you do?'

"Too bad. That's what ill-timed birds get."

"Are you ever going to stop being mad at me for this? It was an accident!"

Jason laughed. "Oh Timmy, I'm not mad."

"Oh. You're...not?"

"No," he said mildly. "I am absolutely still going to hold a grudge, though. I'm gonna go see what's taking Dickie so long."

He got up, and disappeared around the corner into the kitchen.

Tim sighed and put his feet up on the table as they talked quietly in the kitchen— Oh great, and now he could hear them kissing. Just what he needed.

"Maybe if we just stay in here, he'll eventually leave," he heard Jason say.

"No! He came to visit, stop being mean to him."

Well thank you. At least Dick cared about him.

He heard Jason sigh. "Yeah, I guess we can't just pick back up where we left off since we got interrupted. Kind of a mood killer."

"Well I didn't say that." There was more kissing. "Later though."

Tim felt himself go through all five stages of grief in bare seconds. Personally, he thought he should qualify for a veteran's discount after today.

Eventually, they reemerged — with coffee for him, thankfully.

They sat down — Jason in his chair, and Dick on the other side of the couch — and sipped their tea. Unfortunately, Tim was now having trouble keeping his eyes away from Dick's mouth.

He wasn't trying to think about it, but the problem with being the type of person who thought about everything all the time was that it didn't really ever stop. Like, had Jason even washed his mouth? Because—

Jason snapped his fingers directly in front of Tim's face.

"Quit it," he said warningly.

Tim was starting to think his face would never go back to its normal color again.

"So," Dick said. "What'd you come over for?"

"I just wanted to check in if you had any new leads on that embezzling case," Tim mumbled, and grabbed his coffee from where Dick had set it on the table for something to do.

It was stone cold.

~*~

Tim called Damian from the parking garage before he even started his bike to head home. Damian was the one who visited Dick and Jason most often, and he was also the one who had started the whole barging in thing in the first place. Tim thought it would probably be best if nobody else had the same sort of...unfortunate encounter that he had.

"What."

"Hey, Dami— Dames...Damian." Okay, so perhaps Tim was still a bit out of sorts from that level of prolonged, excruciating embarrassment, and maybe his voice was an octave or two higher than usual, and it was possible that he was doing an absolutely horrible job at sounding casual.

"Yes. Drake. What do you want?"

"Ah, yeah...so, um, the knocking thing...that's important, something you should do, definitely, yes."

"What?"

"Uh, well, I just went over to Jay and Dick's and, well, the thing they keep saying about knocking before you go into places is, um, yeah that, uh...really needs to be followed now because I, uh...yeah. Just. Knock. And maybe stop using the bedroom window as an entrance."

"Ew." Damian hung up.

Well. Rude, but Tim supposed he had gotten the point.

~*~

Damian entered Dick and Jason's flat through the living room window, and stood with his arms crossed, glowering at the bedroom door.

It wasn't a big deal, really, it was just...annoying. And now he was going to have to sit alone in his room at the manor when he had a shit day, and that just...well it wasn't the worst, but it was much better to be here where he knew someone cared for him and wasn't afraid to show it, even if he didn't always say it back.

"Come on." He heard through the wall.

"Jay!" Dick gasped.

Ugh. He did not need to hear this.

"Richard," he called, not bothering to go over and knock on the door. It was the principle of the thing, and he'd do it on his own terms like he did everything else.

"Uh, one minute Dami!" Dick's voice sounded strained.

There was a quick series of clattering thumps. "Shit."

What in the hell was that?

"Hey, little D!" Dick bounded out of the room in sweatpants and a t-shirt, red faced and messy haired. "What's up?"

Dick embraced him tightly, and Damian frowned, but didn't resist.

He figured it would be best to cut to the heart of things. "I suppose you won't want me to come over after patrols now," he stated.

"What? No." Dick actually looked saddened by the idea. "Why do you say that?"

Damian gave him a flat look, but Dick just continued to look bewildered. Oh great, he was going to have to say it.

He wasn't bothered by sex in general — the idea of sex was fine, sure, whatever. But Richard having sex? No. No thanks. That fell under the same category as father having sex: Things Damian Very Much Never Wanted To Acknowledge Or Think About Happening. Ever.

He grimaced. "Because you and Todd are...busier now."

"What?" Dick looked taken aback, and then he laughed. "Oh, you mean...Uh, not that busy. No, after patrols is fine! Just, ugh, come sit down."

He headed back toward the bedroom door, which Damian eyed dubiously.

"You coming?" It took a second, but then Dick rolled his eyes. "We weren't having sex, Damian, jesus. Actually, what we were doing was far more embarrassing — not that you should be embarrassed by sex!" he hastily added.

Damian just looked at him.

"We were both fully clothed and I don't have to explain myself to you."

He waited, biting back a smirk. Richard always told him.

"Fine!" Dick let out a huff and crossed his arms. "We were trying to see how many books I could balance on my feet while doing a handstand," he mumbled. "We only got up to fourteen."

Damian was unable to hold back a snort at that. That...explained the noises quite well, actually.

"Tt. And which one of us is the child?"

Dick ignored him and went into the room, and Damian followed. Sure enough, a small pile of books lay in disarray over the floor.

"Oh, thanks for picking those up, Jay," Dick said sarcastically, but there was no bite.

Jason just 'Hmm'ed from where he was laid on the floor reading, one leg propped up on a shelf of the bookcase. "Realized I hadn't reread Crime and Punishment in a while, got distracted," he muttered. "Hey gremlin."

"Hello Todd."

Dick flopped down on the bed, and patted the place beside him. Damian sat.

"So, as I was saying, after patrols is still good, wonderful, I love when you stay over." He stretched his leg out to prod Jason with his toe. "Right, Jay?"

"What? Oh, yeah, nights are good." He tossed the book toward the others and stretched. "After patrol is perfect, not like we're gonna be fuckin' or anything — been runnin around the city all night, probably injured, I mean who has the energy?"

"Okay, not how I would have said it, but…" Dick held his hands out, as if to say 'well there you go'.

Damian watched as Jason wrapped a hand around Dick's ankle so he'd stop waving his foot around obnoxiously, and, seemingly unconsciously, stroked his thumb over it soothingly. Sickening.

"Really though, it doesn't just have to be after patrols," Jason added, "you can still drop by anytime. Just, yanno, knock or something. Like we've been telling you you should do anyway 'cause it's polite."

"Yeah, please don't stop coming over, I hate when I only ever get to see you in costume."

"Okay, I get it. You're terrified of being left alone with Todd all the time."

Both men laughed.

"I should go now, Alfred will be putting out dinner soon. I'll stay over after patrol tonight?" Damian said.

"Yes!" Dick smiled. "And tell Tim to keep his fat mouth shut," he added just before Damian left the room. "I don't know what all he told you, but I know he's the one who gave you those ideas."

"Gladly," Damian smirked, and shut the door.

He heard Jason's laughter through the door as he headed back toward the window.

"Oh, Dickie," he crooned mockingly. "You gonna cry?"

"Yes!" Dick replied earnestly. "He's so sweet, I just love him so much. I legitimately am about to cry."

Dick's words were slightly muffled, like he was covering his mouth, but he did actually sound close to tears. Damian stood still in the middle of their living room.

That was about...him? He didn't agree that he was sweet, but still, it was...nice that Richard thought that. Flattering.

"Aww, I can already see the little breakdown you're gonna have when he decides he's too big to sleep here anymore. He's, what, sixteen? Time's a tickin', sweetie pie." Jason teased.

"Oh my god, don't jinx it, I'm not kidding. I will genuinely cry when he refuses to cuddle anymore— Oh no," he interrupted himself. "What about if he gets in a relationship? He's never gonna stay over again. We could let them stay too, right Jay? We could fit four people in this bed. Wait— what if he gets more than one?" Dick asked. "We should get a bigger bed," he decided.

Jason laughed. "We are not inviting some random kid into our bed."

"Well when you say it like that it sounds creepy."

"Aw, pumpkin," he said fondly. "You're adorable. That's 'cause it is super creepy. Birdie's gotta leave the nest some day."

"Don't be mean."

"I'm not! I'm sure he'll still come visit all the time, and you can take afternoon naps together or whatever the hell, okay? He loves you so, so much, Dick. He tolerates me because of you, and if that ain't love, I don't know what is. He's not gonna just up and leave you! He's a teenager who still sleeps in our bed for comfort — he ain't letting you go anytime soon."

"Hey! Don't be mean to yourself either, that's my boyfriend you're shit-talking." Dick sighed. "And if you're wrong about Dami, I will cry. I'll make a big dramatic to-do and everything."

"I know, sweetheart. C'mere."

Well. That was...really nice. Damian knew Richard loved him, but it was different hearing it from someone when it wasn't to your face, when you knew they really meant it. And he felt less like an intruder now, knowing that Richard, and even Todd, really wanted him there when he showed up, not just wanted to make him feel better.

The sound of kissing reached him, and he hastily opened the window.

"I love you."

"I love you too."