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Honestly speaking, Tim would prefer to be touch-starved. If the clawing cold hiding just underneath his skin could be cured by simply giving up and letting Dick hug him, he’d have been cured already many times over. Lord knows that Jason was a cuddler when he wasn’t too pissed to enter the manor. Damian had slowly been accepting more and more touches, practically melting into every hug Bruce gave him. Cass had always been touchy, even if Tim was just sat on the couch next to her and she was tossing her feet over his lap.
If he were just touch-starved, it wouldn’t really be a problem, not with his family now. But- well.
Tim was raised without the sensation of skin against his own. His mother barely held him when he was a baby, something his father had regretfully told him about at her funeral. His dad was much the same, barely more than a brush against his shoulder until the day he died. It wasn’t the man’s fault- no one in the Drake family was terribly touchy, it was just a state of being. They were uncomfortable with being a very affectionate family, and Tim never blamed them for that.
When Dick hugged him when he was three, he’d been ecstatic. It was a hug from another kid, another kid who could stand to talk with him, and someone who was basically his hero. Regardless of the Robin thing, Dick was his hero- he’d decided when he was only three and Dick had done a flip at his childish request.
But when he’d sat beside his parents during the performance, he’d realized he hadn’t melted into the touch like he’d expected, like other kids described when it was their parents that hugged them. There in the stands, he experimentally leaned into the side of his dad, ignoring the man’s strange look and awkward shoulder pat. Sure enough, it felt unnatural. It made his skin crawl.
Tim wasn’t really touch-starved. He was more touch-averse.
Dick had asked, once. After a bad bout of fear toxin, Tim had been shivering on the med cot and trying to remember which way was up. Dick had seen his distress and done what he did best, go in for a hug to try and comfort him. Tim had kept his unfounded discomfort to himself until that point, but when Dick leaned in with his arms spread open Tim had jumped so high in the air that Dick had to just about pry him off the ceiling.
( “Tim, it’s okay to ask for a hug! Even Bruce gets a bit touch-starved sometimes.” )
Really, it would be so simple if that were the solution. Clawing coldness when Tim avoids touch, and a bug-like crawling and burning when he doesn’t. Either option sucks, but it’s not like he’s comfortable enough to ask for hugs he just knows he’ll flinch away from.
-|-
Cuddle pollen was always the worst. It made the yawning expanse in his chest that much more unbearable. On top of that, he always had to put up with the prickling, uncomfortable feeling of being wrapped up against Dick or Bruce’s side for as long as the cold gripped at his core. The moment it was gone, he would leap out of the grip and avoid human contact for as long as he could after because of how it always left him feeling uncomfortable and shaky.
This particular time, Tim barely made it back to the cave before his body started to shudder and creak in protest. He washed the pollen off while the others drove back, biting his tongue as the shivers slowly starting to wrack his body. He could feel the icy coldness opening him up, starting at his chest and crackling all the way down his body.
“Don’t worry, Tim,” Dick promised through the comm that Tim was ignoring. “I’ll be back home soon. We can cuddle and watch movies the rest of the night, yeah? Damian was hit too, so it’ll be one big cuddle pile!”
Tim nearly gagged at the tiny black device set on the shower shelf. Damian was one of the worst at making his skin crawl- third only to Jason and strangers. Tim was really not looking forward to a night pressed up against the grumbling assassin's side, trying to pretend he didn’t want to crawl out of his own skin. What was worse, the too-hot, clammy skin of another person or suffering through cuddle pollen on his own? Depending on the strain it was honestly a toss-up for Tim.
After just barely a long enough shower to clear his skin of the pollen and a quick change in clothing, Tim shoved the comm back in his ear and sat in the med bay. His hands were shaking too badly to get a vein to draw his blood, so he stabbed blindly and winced. It wasn’t a whole lot, but it should be enough for a pollen test.
“Negative,” He replied through the comms. Tim moved over to the batcomputer and slid into the seat while shivers wracked his frame. He plopped the vial of his blood into the scanner and pulled up the necessary programs. His hands were shaking so badly that he could hardly keep control of the mouse now. “I’m analyzing now. If it’s a weaker strain, I can make it back home. I’ll just ask Kon to swing by.”
Which he wasn’t doing, to be clear. Tim had only truly tried to blow off cuddle pollen after care once- but he’d ended up so cold and stiff, curled up in the closet in his apartment with a million blankets and two heating pads, that Jason had been sent to check up on him. The man had kicked him out of the closet and grumbled about ‘self-sacrificing idiot’ while forcing him into a hug. It wasn’t a matter of self-sacrifice; it was a matter of the fact that he didn’t want to be touched .
But surely the second time’s the charm. Tim could probably make it out of the manor before anyone could corner him.
Dick hummed through the comms just as the analysis started. “Are you sure?” Dick asked, audibly disappointed. Tim winced. “Haven’t seen you around the manor much lately. It’d be nice to have a movie night. And I think Damian might’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Tt.”
The idea of Damian looking forward to anything with Tim made him distinctly uncomfortable, so he elected to believe Dick was over-exaggerating. He tapped at the computer, watching as it finished the analysis. Just as he thought- weaker strain. Tim pushed himself away from the desk on the roller-chair, earning a sharp squeak as the plastic wheels rolled over the smooth cement floor. He tapped at his comms to turn them on.
“It’s a weaker strain. Antidote C6.” Tim pulled open the antidote drawer, then navigated to the correct one and loaded it up. “I’ll be heading home then. It should be out of my system in the next two hours. Probably won’t even need Kon.”
Dick huffed into the comm. “Negative, Tim. You’re not allowed to tough out cuddle pollen on your own. None of us are. Do you remember what happened last time?”
He’d practically been held down by Jason on his couch for an hour and a half until the antidote kicked in. His skin had burned too hot the whole time, and he felt gross and sweaty by the end. There was practically a wasp's nest beneath his skin with discomfort. He’d holed up in his apartment avoiding all human contact for nearly a week after to reset his body.
“I remember,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “That was a more severe strain. I’m fine.” He jabbed the antidote into his thigh, probably too forcefully, and winced at the subsequent twinge. The amber liquid emptied quickly, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. “I’ll be heading out now. If it gets that bad again, I’ll send a distress signal.”
“Red Robin, stay put.” Tim winced as the gravelly tone ordered through the comm. He quickly threw out the idea of just tossing the damned thing and ignoring them on his way home. “Nightwing and Robin are en route. You will stay for recovery time. Nightwing, should I send Black-Bat?”
Tim cursed under his breath. Now they were dragging Cass into this? Sure, Cass was probably the only person in the family he could tolerate the occasional touch from, but it still wasn’t ideal . She had her own patrol route that very much did not need Tim interrupting because he didn’t like hugs .
“Unnecessary,” He cut through the comms. “I’ll…” He grit his teeth. Damian, who was sure to make Tim’s skin crawl every moment they were pressed up against each other? Dick, who would surely give him puppy dog sad eyes when he inevitably flinches away from the touch like he always does? Cass, who should really be continuing her patrol right now?
The decision was ultimately made for him. Nightwing’s bike roared into the cave, and Tim watched tiredly as Nightwing climbed off. He was quickly followed by the smaller form of Robin who was valiantly attempting to hide the shivering wracking his shoulders. Tim could already feel himself cracking in half under the ice cold pressure; he couldn’t imagine what the kid was going through.
“...I’ll deal.” Tim clicked his comm off and tossed it at the desk carelessly. Dick directed Damian to the showers, then turned to Tim, a bright smile on his face.
“I’ll shower and then change. I’ll be quick,” Dick promised.
Well, this sucked. Tim sank back into the computer chair and rubbed a hand harshly over his tired face. Now he was forced into a night of cuddling that would surely make him so uncomfortable he wouldn’t be able to look any of his family in the eye for the foreseeable future.
Unfortunately, Tim didn’t get a whole lot of time to wallow in his own misery before one of the showers clicked off. Damian was out first. He was always more efficient, and despite Dick promising to be quick, Damian was dealing with cuddle pollen first and foremost. Damian was probably just as cold as Tim at that moment, not exactly the opportune time for a comfortable shower. He did hesitate at the sight of Tim alone, Dick nowhere in sight, before shaking his head and slinking forward. His hands were wrapped around his torso and he shivered every so often, a deep-set scowl on his face. Damian stopped just outside of the computer area, not even deigning to look at Tim.
“...Timothy,” Damian greeted. At least he had the decency to use his first name instead of the snide ‘Drake’ the boy usually reserved for more antagonistic moments. If they were about to end up cuddling on the couch, the least he could do was be polite.
“Damian,” Tim returned, nodding. His teeth clacked together, uncomfortably and Tim frowned. His teeth were already chattering.
A completely understandable awkward silence fell over the both of them. They’d never been forced to interact alone during cuddle pollen and Tim was sure that neither of them knew how exactly to treat the moment. They were always the ones squirming out of people’s grips and being forced to ride it out with a hug, not the ones initiating. At least in that respect, they were similar.
Damian shuffled on his feet. He looked at Tim, then the floor, then the wall. For such a confident kid, he could really get nervous when it came down to it. Tim sighed. Was he going to have to be the one to initiate something he really doesn’t want to do?
Tim decided waiting around wasn’t productive and spoke, “Look-”
“Timothy-” Damian started at the same time. They both clicked their mouths closed. Damian took a steadying breath and squared his shoulders, meeting Tim’s eyes with the kind of determination Tim thought ought to be reserved for battle. “Timothy. Seeing as we are both indisposed due to Poison Ivy’s Toxin, it is logical that we should embrace until Richard finishes with his shower.”
Wow. In Damian-speak, that was practically the kid whining and begging for a hug. Tim never thought he’d see the day. Despite his own discomfort, he supposed he should help the poor kid out. It wasn’t exactly very defender-of-Gotham of him to ignore someone being in pain with the solution in his palms.
He nodded. On his way over, Tim grabbed another antidote and loaded it up. Damian extended his arm easily, and Tim instinctually avoided brushing his skin against Damian’s, but when he lined the antidote up with the kid’s arm, Damian stretched his fingers out until it was brushing Tim’s other hand. A shiver ran up Tim’s spine and he jolted away from the scalding touch without thinking. The short-lived pollen relief was gone in an instant and he grumbled, but reached out his spare hand to hold Damian’s wrist in place for the antidote. It was somewhere between holding hands and ignoring him completely, which ought to be enough.
With the antidote in Damian’s system, Tim tossed the empty vial aside and turned back to the shivering boy. Damian was twitching around his grip, hot and clammy Tim grimly noted, clearly desperate for more touch. Well, it was either this or inevitably get scolded by Dick for leaving Damian shivering in the middle of the Batcave.
Tim awkwardly spread his arms open. “Uh. Come on-” Demon Brat felt too harsh for the moment, “-Dami. Let’s get it over with.”
Damian frowned but ducked into his grip. Searing heat spread from the torso pressed against his own and the tiny arms wrapped tightly around his back. Searing, burning, far too hot. Tim twitched but managed not to duck away from the grip. Already, he could feel his body sweating where Damian was touching him and his skin crawling.
“Sorry,” Damian mumbled into his chest. Tim awkwardly let his arms fall around Damian’s shoulders. He couldn’t tell if his grip was too light or too heavy, and Damian’s pointed shoulders dug painfully into Tim’s wrists.
“It’s okay,” Tim responded quietly.
“It’s not.” Damian buried his face in Tim’s shirt, and with every movement, it felt like a wave of bees under Tim’s skin. “I know you do not… appreciate my touch. I apologize,” Damian said haltingly, unsurely.
Hm. Well. From Damian’s perspective, that would certainly make sense. After their bad start together it would be the only logical conclusion to draw for why Tim flinched away from every touch and avoided being with Damian during cuddle pollen at all costs. Actually, that was incredibly logical- which was now biting Tim in the butt. How long would it take for the demon brat to report this to Bruce and get Tim in trouble for ‘being mean to his brother’? It wasn’t like he was only avoiding Damian, he avoided everyone!
“It’s not-” Tim sighed and sagged against Damian. He forcefully unwound his tightening muscles, trying to convince his brain he wasn’t in any actual danger. “It’s not you,” He managed. “I’m just… not really a fan of touch. With anyone.”
“Tt.” Well, Damian didn’t believe him. “Dick says that you are… touch starved.” Damian’s grip tightened the smallest amount, and the tiny arms squeezed painfully at Tim’s skin. He winced, but didn’t make any noise of annoyance- it wasn’t Damian’s fault, it was the pollen’s.
“Maybe.” Probably at least a little. He couldn’t remember when his last hug was. “But I’m more touch-averse. I don’t really feel comfortable touching anyone.”
There was another moment of silence, only the soft sounds of Dick’s shower and Damian’s breathing. “...No one?” Damian finally voiced, sounding oddly small in that moment.
No one. Maybe Cass, if Tim wasn’t feeling overwhelmed or tired. Maybe Dick, if Tim really went a long time without touching anybody, and it was kept to a simple shoulder press. But there was no one that he felt particularly comfortable hugging, cuddling, or anything he knew he should want but just can’t . It would be easier if the problem were just that he was touch-starved, but it ran deeper than that. Things could never be easy for him.
The second shower clicked off and Tim almost gave another sigh, this time of relief. Awkward conversations with Damian were never fun, especially not when they were basically chained to each other. Tim could count on Dick bulldozing into the conversation and breaking the tension. Maybe Tim could even claim he wasn’t being affected all that badly and get away with just a hand in his own or Dick’s shoulder pressed against him.
The door to the bathroom swung open and Dick walked out, a towel over his head and costume swapped for civvies. He started practically glowing at the sight of Tim and Damian hugging each other, unfortunately. The moment he was close, though, Damian lurched out of Tim’s grip to latch onto Dick instead. Dick took the sudden force in a stride and lifted the small boy into his arms. Damian should definitely be too heavy for that- Dick must’ve been practicing deadlifting to be able to keep holding Damian one-handed. Dick outstretched his other arm towards Tim, and Damian watched the interaction closely.
Tim set his expression. He reached back, only giving the smallest of twitches when Dick’s far too-hot hand brushed against his own. The clawing emptiness left in the wake of Damian ditching him for Dick was nothing compared to the way he immediately wanted to skin his palm at the contact with Dick. Tim frowned, but followed Dick’s directions to press himself against the man’s side.
They all shuffle awkwardly into the elevator. Damian kept an eye on Tim the whole way, which was definitely an uncomfortable feeling. They made it up to the movie room and collapsed on the couch in a pile. Dick made quick work of starfishing out, allowing for Damian to curl into his side and for Tim to rest his knee against Dick’s hip awkwardly.
Where did his body go in relation to Dick’s? He wasn’t sure of the protocol for getting his body slotted in next to somebody else's. Dick tried to solve the problem, wildly waving his hand around until it bumped Tim’s side, ouch, and yanking him down. Tim grumbled, but let the uncomfortableness wash over him.
Well. Which was better, bees burrowing under his skin or the cold?
(Tim’s vote was a toss-up.)
-|-
Tim, for as long as he could remember, felt overwhelmed at touch. Uncomfortable, unsure, and overwhelmed. When people started pinching his cheeks and shaking his hand far too roughly at galas, it only ever hurt- none of the relaxing warmth that he’d been promised would come from other people touching him.
His dad wasn’t gentle when he awkwardly clapped his back to try to show some physical affection. Dick wasn’t gentle when he strong-armed Tim into a hug. Jason wasn’t gentle when he ruffled Tim’s hair so hard that it pulled on the strands. Cass was the only one who’d touched him and backed off when it became so much that Tim wanted to cry.
Touch almost always hurt. Nobody but Cass was gentle. It shouldn’t matter- he hardly flinched at punches thrown hard enough to leave bruises, and he didn’t care when he was grazed by knives and needles. Why would the sharp shoulders and too-tight arms of his own family be the thing to get to him?
After the unfortunate cuddle pollen night, Tim had hidden in his apartment for the better part of a week. He kept thinking about how uncomfortable it had been, how awkward, and how much his skin had crawled. It bugged him so bad he couldn’t even leave the house for groceries, too scared he’d bump somebody's shoulder on the street or brush his fingers against the cashier when he handed his card over.
When he finally popped back up at the manor, nobody batted an eye. They’d called his self-isolation ‘embarrassment’ and he wasn’t in a hurry to correct them. Tim just slotted his way back into the manor and pretended nothing happened, so neither did the rest of the family.
He still avoided brushing up against them.
The first night after patrol, Tim ended up sitting in the medical bay while Alfred examined a solid bruise on his jaw to make sure it didn’t fracture any bones. Alfred seemed just as uncomfortable with physical touch as Tim’s father, so he was avoiding brushing his fingers against Tim’s skin. The most physically affectionate thing that Tim had ever seen the man do was the odd shoulder touch or handhold. It was nice, to be around someone like himself.
The door to the exam room swung open and Jason bustled through with Damian following shortly behind him. “The Demon Brat’s grapple landed wrong and he twisted his ankle,” Jason announced before Damian could get a word in.
“Up there,” Alfred sighed, gesturing to the other medical cot. Damian grumbled, but followed the direction to sit on the medical cot. Jason offered him a passing hair ruffle that made Tim frown, but Damian only huffed.
Jason had been making an effort to be more touchy with the family. Tim had noticed because Dick had been bothering him for hugs less and Jason had accidentally reached for a hug from Tim twice now before Tim flinched and he thought better of it. Damian grumbled some more, but didn’t seem opposed to the casual touch. Tim could only scowl as Jason strolled over to Tim’s medical cot and got far too close for comfort.
“What did Timbourina get into? That’s a nasty one.” Tim tried not to physically lean back as Jason spoke.
“Stray fist. Knuckle dusters,” He offered shortly.
“Luckily, your jaw is not broken,” Alfred finished for him. The man leaned back and stuffed the penlight into his breast pocket. “Very lucky. Ice it tonight to keep down the swelling,” The man ordered.
As Alfred moved over to examine Damian, Jason dipped down into the freezer and grabbed a stray ice pack. “Catch,” Jason called and then tossed it the short distance across the room. Tim barely managed to catch it with his fumbling fingers. But, it seemed the distraction served its purpose- Tim could only freeze as Jason closed the distance between them and reached up to ruffle his hair.
Jason’s expression was fond. It wasn’t malicious, Tim knew that. Jason was just trying to settle into his place more in the manor and engage in the friendly physical contact he’d been deprived of in his old self-imposed isolation. He wasn’t as touchy as Dick, but Jason was still touchy . He’d been trying to be casual, and he’d been trying even harder to be casual with Tim. He was just trying to bridge the gap, and Tim really should let him. Just suck it up and deal with it, even if it hurt, even if it was uncomfortable. It wasn’t malicious, so he should just sit and try not to flinch-
“Todd!” Damian barked. Everyone in the room froze and turned to the formerly quiet boy. He was glaring at Jason now, teeth bared almost… protectively? What kind of expression was that? It was bizarre.
“What?” Jason demanded almost petulantly.
“Your hand is too heavy.” Damian jabbed his finger in the direction of Jason’s hand, still awkwardly hovering halfway between Jason and Tim. “Your fingers will surely catch in Timothy’s hair, and the force of it will rattle his head on his neck.”
Jason raised an eyebrow at Damian. “Look, tyke, I know Tim ain’t as tough as I am, but he isn’t about to fall apart because I give him a head pat .”
Damian glared for a moment, seemingly gathering his words. Tim was personally struck speechless- what on earth was Damian talking about? Sure, it was going to be uncomfortable, probably even a bit painful, but it wasn’t like Damian should care that Tim would get rattled around. It wasn’t any worse than a friendly spar.
“...You hurt me.” Tense silence fell over the room. Damian seemed massively uncomfortable while he spoke, as if admitting to any kind of weakness was like pulling teeth. It actually probably was. “When you ruffled my hair, it hurt. I was…” Damian licked his lips, “Overwhelmed. I am used to it from you, but Timothy is not. You shall be gentle with him, or you shall not be permitted to touch him.”
Jason’s hand fell to his side, thankfully. Tim tracked the movement as it flopped uselessly at Jason’s hip, and then again when Jason walked forward and gently extended his hand for Damian. Damian slid his hand into Jason’s smoothly, both of their touches featherlight.
“...Sorry,” Jason mumbled. “I… didn’t realize.” With his free hand, Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Still getting used to my body, I guess. Don’t realize my own strength sometimes.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “You must be careful from now on.”
“I will.”
Surprisingly, on Jason’s way out of the first aid room, he ruffled Tim’s hair far more softly than he had ever before. It still felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but it… well, it didn’t hurt. And that was definitely an improvement. Had Jason not realized how heavy his touches were?
-|-
And again it happened. Tim was struck mute when he showed up for a mission debrief and Dick attempted to capture him in a hug, only to be halted by Damian. Damian had told Dick his hugs were too tight, too suffocating, right to his face . Dick had nearly burst into tears until Damian had managed to calm him down by promising that it was okay if he was just a bit gentler with the smaller among them.
And it kept happening.
Bruce tried to clap Tim on the shoulder after a case closed and Damian intervened, scolding him for the casual touch with his gauntlets still on and the rough treatment. Steph tried to jump on him after a successful bust, but there Damian was, interfering and demanding that she control her violent affection.
It was… bizarre. In the span of only two weeks, Damian had the entire rest of the family treating both Tim and Damian like glass. The touches were so gentle Tim could hardly feel them- if not for the clammy warmth, he probably wouldn’t have at all. It was strange but also… not necessarily an unwelcome change.
It was no longer so overwhelming. Tim found himself flinching away less frequently than he had before, found himself tolerating some of the touches more frequently. The change seemed strange and entirely unneeded, but he couldn’t help but be thankful that Damian had decided to speak up out of the blue like that.
-|-
Tim was sitting in the TV room nearest to the kitchen, his laptop balanced on his knee, and some nature documentary playing on the TV. Damian was at the opposite end of the couch, drawing in his sketchpad and occasionally glancing up at the TV for reference. Every few minutes, Damian jutted his leg out and bumped Tim’s foot with his own. It was jarring the first few times, but by the tenth or so, Tim was basically used to it.
“Here you are!” Tim glanced up from his laptop and found Dick standing in the doorway, a bright smile on his face. Tim tried not to groan. He hadn’t even realized Dick had arrived for his weekend visit yet. Dick sat down on the couch easily, curling right up to Damian and throwing his arm around his shoulder. “What are you two up to? Hyena documentary?”
“We are relaxing, Richard,” Damian provided shortly. Dick turned to Tim expectantly, so he shrugged.
“Female hyenas apparently have penises too. They like to go anal with their boyfriends sometimes,” Tim provided rather unhelpfully. Dick wrinkled his nose at the uninvited ‘fun fact’.
“...great.” Dick sighed dramatically and then draped himself over Damian’s side, notably lightly, giving plenty of room for Damian to wriggle out if need be. He wasn’t doing that two weeks ago. “I guess there’s no room for me, then. If learning about hyena sex is more appealing than the company of your older brother, I suppose I’ll see myself out.” Dick turned to deadweight on top of Damian, and Damian was quick to hiss at him and wriggle out of his grip.
“You’re impossible, Richard,” Damian hissed. He plopped back down on the couch on the other side of Dick and much closer to Tim. Tim could see as Damian glanced over, checking if it was okay with him, and so he purposefully relaxed his posture.
“Aww.” Dick sat back up and then relaxed back into the couch. He had one arm slinged over Damian’s shoulders and one leg propped up on the footstool, putting it to be leaning up against Damian’s own leg.
“How was work this week?” Tim asked to strike up some sort of conversation. “You said you were getting a new class at the gymnastics place, a new set of seven-year-olds, right?”
“Oh yeah!” Dick quickly launched into a long-winded explanation of his new class, happily talking both Damian and Tim’s ears off about children they’d never met. Eventually, the conversation got tossed to Damian, who begrudgingly regaled them about his art class and the idiots he’d been paired up with this week for a group project.
Tim relaxed more and more, no longer feeling the too-closeness with the words to distract him. He had one eye on Damian as he spoke and one on his laptop while his attention slowly started to fade into the wonderfulness of an exhausted zone out. It’d been a long week, and he was more than happy to simply relax as his brother spoke.
His attention was only recaptured when Damian stiffened next to him. Damian relaxed just as quickly as he’d stiffened, but Tim was already zoning back in. What has caused it? Damian was trying to pretend nothing happened, instead diverting to talking about his math class, but it wasn’t nothing . Why would he stiffen out of nowhere only to pretend that nothing happened-?
And, there. Both Tim and Damian’s legs propped up on the footstool. Dick had one slung over one of Damian’s, a casual kind of touch that Tim could only dream of. And Damian’s other leg was- pressed up against Tim’s. Tim hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t making his skin crawl to touch so casually like this. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable that he just leaned his leg up against someone. It wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t too sweaty, it wasn’t too awkward. It felt casual in a way that was wholly foreign to Tim.
“Timothy?” Damian questioned carefully. Tim hummed noncommittally in response.
Experimentally, he raised his hand and brushed it against Damian’s arm. Damian held frighteningly still, hardly daring to so much as breathe through the interaction. It felt warm, but not overwhelmingly so. Tim frowned at his hand, but no matter how much he willed it, it didn’t start buzzing uncomfortably. When had that started?
Tim moved slowly and carefully as he closed the distance between him and Damian. Damian held his breath while Tim moved until they were both pressed against each other’s sides. Dick was watching with stars in his eyes, so Tim elected to ignore him.
One leg pressed against Damian’s. Side pressed against him. Tim breathed slowly and studied the points of contact, how not one point hummed uncomfortably.
…Well.
Tim went back to his case. He didn’t stop pressing against the comforting warmth at his side, but neither did he acknowledge how he’d initiated touch like this for the first time in… probably his whole life, actually. Damian didn’t acknowledge it either, and he elbowed Dick in the side before he could bring it up.
This was… fine. And when Tim started to get just a little overwhelmed, he drew back to the other side of the couch, and Damian didn’t follow him.
-|-
It wasn’t perfect after that. Tim still didn’t really like to touch or be touched. He was still uncomfortable most of the time, and if someone tried to come in for a hug too quickly, he still instinctually flinched away.
But it wasn’t so bad anymore. He found himself initiating casual touch with more of his family, and he found his skin crawling less and less. He didn’t mind a few minutes of cuddling so badly anymore. He actually sought out a casual but gentle shoulder bump, and, notably, the clawing coldness underneath his skin was starting to fade.
…Of course, it took him nearly a month and a half to realize that Damian had been giving him exposure therapy for his extreme touch-aversion . That little bastard .