Batboys Smut, Fluff and Oneshots (open to requests)

Because I can (Tim Drake)

You are walking home from the Library where you had to return one of the books you borrowed. Don't get the wrong the idea, you like to read but you're not necessarily a book worm. And even though the bullies at school call you that all the time, you actually don't mind it and it doesn't bother you at all.

You had a tangle with them a few days ago, and you still have the scabs and bruises to prove it. Its not like you couldn't defend yourself, its because you didn't want to hurt them over something as trivial as that. To others, it would have probably warranted a serious ass whooping but to you it didn't. You just didn't want to let that anger out on them because you felt that was what they were doing to you. The truth is, some people don't think bullying is wrong, and they usually just do it to vent out some negative emotion. Most often that not, its anger, envy, jealousy and sometimes even fear. The fear that they'll never be good enough and that you'll always be better. So they try to lord over you and dominate you, thinking it will make them better. But it doesn't, it only destroys what little morals they have left.

You sigh as you keep walking through the cold dark streets of Gotham, keeping an eye out and looking down every dark alley, listening intently for any kind of disturbance. You aren't a superhero, but you are somewhat of a vigilante. Just because you let yourself get bullied doesn't mean that you were about to let others who neither deserve nor have the capacity to handle such physical and emotional duress suffer it.

As you walk down the road, you begin to hear some weird noises. The closer you get, the more you are able to identify the noises as sounds of struggle. You pick up the pace and run towards the alley and the sight you meet there breaks your heart. You find the same bullies who you handle and deal with almost everyday, picking on someone who is about half their size; about the same size as you.

You recognize the boy being beaten up as Tim, Tim Drake from school. You two are in the same class and you know that boy is absolutely brilliant. After all he's been through and his horrible childhood experiences, he still does so well and tries his best to do what's right. He is the last person who deserves this.

You feel anger boil inside of you but you swallow it and go for the more calm approach. "Hey!" You call out to them and they immediately freeze, all heads turning to you. You notice that Tim has a black eye and a bloody nose, a busted up lip and his body is littered with bruises. Every bit of pale skin that is exposed by his dark red hoodie is tainted with tiny cuts and bruises. Your heart yearns for him and you give him a sympathetic look before turning back to glare at the bullies.

"Put him down!" You command and they smirk at you. Cole, the big one who had Tim pinned against the wall drops him to the ground and starts walking towards you. Tim hits the floor with a quiet groan. Your first instinct is to go make sure he is okay, but you have to deal with this bozo first. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my little play thing." He says and puts his hand on the side of your face.

You smack his hand away and have the pleasure of seeing a wave of shock wash across his face, quickly replaced by the same smug look. "Oh, I see our little slut here has grown a pair. Maybe I should take a look just to be sure." He says with that sick look on his face as he reached for your thighs and you are incredible disgusted. There are certain things that you will never tolerate.

You grab his arm, twisting it behind his back and punching him in the gut. You easily take down the other two guys, but you don't beat them up too hard, even thought you wanted to because they hurt Tim. As soon as you're done, you run over to Tim and help him up, inspecting his bruises while doing so. "Thank you. That was really kind of you. But you didn't need to, honest. I could have handled myself." He says, his voice shaky in a way that makes you not believe one word of him being able to handle himself. "Yeah, right. Sure you could, tough guy. But it wasn't a problem though. It was okay. I didn't like seeing you get hurt."

He nods and looks away from you shyly, but in doing so, exposes the red tint in his cheeks. Although that could just be from the blows he received. "You're coming home with me. I need to fix you up." You say, grabbing his hand and leading him out the alley. "Actually, I can't..." He begins to complain but you cut him off by placing placing hand on his lips. "I know where you live and my house is much closer. Also, you seem too stubborn to go to a hospital on your own... So you're coming with me whether you like it or not." You tell him and, lifting his arm to put it around your shoulders, you take him home, supporting his weight. You are surprised at how light he is, but then again, he is pretty skinny and you are stronger than the average human.

You take him home and lay him on your couch, going in to take your extensive first aid kit. "My parents are out of town, so its just us. You can make yourself at home if you want." You say, walking back into the living room with your large heavy first aid kit. You take out some hydrogen peroxide and TCP. Applying some to a piece of cotton wool, you gently clean his wounds, him wincing only once in a while.

Once you're done with the wounds on his face, you sigh and look into his eyes. "I'm going to need you to take off your shirt." You tell him and he frowns slightly and opens his mouth to complain but closes it when he sees your threatening expression.

He sighs in defeat and, gripping the hem of his sweatshirts, pulls it over his head and, folding it neatly, drops it on the couch beside him. You're eyes widen slightly and you marvel at the sight of his toned body. How does someone manage to be skinny and muscular at the same time? Its just not natural. You frown when you notice the numerous accounts of cuts and bruises lining his skin. Dark red scrapes and bluish dark purple bruises, not to mention the fresh cuts on his chest and stomach. You move to kneel in front of him and in between his outstretched legs to get a view of his back. You whimper softly as you inspect the nasty cuts and bruises. He has at least one broken rib and slight internal bleeding.

You cup his face with your hands and look him in the eye, your eyes holding a deep intensity as you both burn holes into each other. "Why would anyone do this to you?" You ask him softly. "Because they can." He replies in the same tone as you and your heart pangs for him. You change position so that you are basically straddling him and he wraps his arms around your waist. You get lost in his baby blue eyes and he stares back into your (e/c) ones.

Before you know it, he pulls you towards him, closing the gap between you two and your lips meet. He kisses you slowly and passionately and you kiss back. For a nerd, he is a really good kisser. But then again, geeks and nerds are always the best first kissers.

His lips mould yours perfectly and you move in sync, as if you already know what to do even though this is your first kiss. After a while you both pull away for air. You rest your forehead against his, panting heavily and staring into his eyes that are staring back. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked first." He rambles, blushing heavily and looking nervous. You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest. "Its okay, Tim, really. And besides, you were a great first kiss." You said and you watch him breath out a sigh of relief.

"You... I was your first kiss?" He asks, blushing deeply and you nod in response. "Well... You were my first too." He says, trying to cover up his inner glee which is obvious to you. You chuckle and he lifts your head up so you can meet his gaze.
"(Y/N)? Why did you do this? Why be so nice to me?" He asks with a confused and puzzled expression. You simply smile. "Because I can." You tell him and peck him on the lips.

You finish treating his wounds and the two of you fall asleep on your couch, your limbs tangled together in a tight embrace.