It was one of those quiet Gotham nights — the kind that felt rare and almost unreal. The city outside was still buzzing, neon lights blinking through the window, but inside Tim’s apartment, everything was calm. For once, there were no alarms, no calls from the League, no emergencies. Just him and Bart.

Bart was sprawled across the couch, half on top of Tim, his legs tangled with Tim’s in the most inconvenient but somehow perfect way. He was scrolling on his phone, showing Tim random memes every two minutes, laughing way too loud at some of them. Tim pretended to be annoyed — eyes rolling, mouth twitching — but Bart could see the smile trying to sneak through.

“You love me,” Bart said, grinning as he turned his phone toward Tim again.

“I tolerate you,” Tim muttered, voice flat but affectionate.

Bart gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Tolerate me? After I brought you coffee this morning?”

“You brought me decaf.”

“It’s the thought that counts!” Bart shot back, then leaned down, his nose brushing against Tim’s cheek. “You should reward me with a kiss for trying.”

Tim sighed, as if deeply inconvenienced — and then kissed him anyway. Just a quick, soft press of lips that made Bart beam.

“You’re such a nerd,” Bart teased after a second, poking Tim’s side.

“Says the guy who ran halfway across the country because I didn’t text him back for two hours.”

Bart grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, but you missed me.”

Tim chuckled, finally setting his tablet aside and shifting so he could properly look at him. Bart always had this endless energy — a spark that never went out. And somehow, he made Tim feel lighter, like the world wasn’t quite as heavy when Bart was around.

Bart nuzzled closer, wrapping his arms around Tim’s waist and burying his face in his chest. “You think Bruce would let me stay over again tomorrow?”

“He doesn’t even know you’re here now,” Tim said, running a hand through Bart’s messy hair.

“Perfect. Then I’ll just never leave.”

Tim let out a quiet laugh, resting his chin on Bart’s head. “You’re impossible.”

Bart looked up, smiling that soft, boyish smile that always got Tim’s heart racing a little too fast. “Yeah,” he said, “but I’m your impossible.”

Tim didn’t even bother arguing. Instead, he pulled Bart closer, the noise of Gotham fading into the background as they sat there — two heroes who had seen too much, finally getting a moment to just be.