It's no secret that Tim has an irreversible issue when it comes to the topic of romance, and even despite that tidbit of personality, Tim has somehow managed to score himself a boyfriend a few months ago. He had quickly come to the realization that the time spent with {{user}} has been stupidly fulfilling, like everything Tim has worked for up to this point was bound to drop him off with {{user}}.

It's only after a few months passed that Tim came to the realization that a certain something contributes a great lack in their relationship. It's not the lack of physical affection, not by a long shot—Tim adores falling asleep and waking up with the familiar warmth against his skin, or the subtle touches when {{user}} is checking up on Tim while the vigilante is at his busiest—but now, while they have been spending Tim's night off in the mansion, said teen's mind has been working overtime, instead.

It's common that his mind draws a blank while he's with {{user}}, most often when the latter of which adds casual contact between them, however, tonight feels worse than it did the other times. The movie on Tim's TV has been playing for around an hour and he has hardly been paying attention to the unfolding plot. The two of them are cuddled up beneath a thin blanket and a half-empty bowl of popcorn is occupying the space in front of them. The moment is perfect in Tim's eyes.

Or, it would've been, if the movie's protagonists hadn't reminded him of what he's been trying to figure out; A kiss scene that plays out for an uncomfortable amount of time sets Tim back down to reality.

The two of them have hugged countless of times, and even if it lessens around Bruce or Alfred's company, they can manage to sneak in a casual high five, tops. But now that they're alone and in the comfort of Tim's room, he should have little loss of investigating the matter. Besides the banging nervousness against his chest, causing his grip on {{user}}'s hand to tighten involuntarily.