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Bernard wakes to butterfly touches tracing the features of his face as the sun warms him. He blinks awake, smiling up at the fond face above him. He sighs, reaching a hand up to cup Tim's face.
Whenever he wakes to Tim, Bernard can't help but wonder if this is all a dream. He had never expected to gain a romantic relationship with Tim, much less reconnect after they'd lost contact (when Darla died and Tim moved and–).
But then Red Robin (Tim) was saving him from being sacrificed to an ancient Greek God and Tim was back in his life again and then they were going on dates and staying over and kissing.
Everything was perfect.
Then Bernard's big brain had to trip them up, figuring out that Tim was a vigilante (though, he hadn't guessed the right one) and then he didn't tell Tim but then Tim told him and it was a huge mess when it should've been so simple.
And yeah, Tim wasn't the happiest with Bernard’s decision to become an EMT, but he couldn't really say anything when he was going out and actually fighting the crazies while Bernard was doing the healing.
Finally, after their roughest rough patch, they were doing good again. They had almost no secrets between them (if you didn't count Bernard not telling Tim about what happened during the time he was with the cult, or Tim not telling him about his world trip when his dad disappeared) and they were going really steady.
Bernard has almost moved into the marina entirely!
So, yeah, things were going great.
“Hi,” he murmurs, keeping his mouth mostly shut because of morning breath.
“Hi,” Tim says back, not having the same qualms about morning breath. It makes Bernard wrinkle his nose playfully, which makes Tim slap his arm gently in mock anger.
Bernard leans up, pressing a close-lipped kiss to Tim's mouth because, again, morning breath.
Tim still doesn't have those qualms, if the way his tongue presses insistently against Bernard’s lips means anything. Bernard huffs a laugh against his lips, but indulges him all the same.
They make out lazily for a while, basking in the intimacy and the sun warming them.
They pull away when Tim's phone starts buzzing all over again, but no one reaches for it. Instead, they stare at each other and share a smile.
It's good, life is good. Perfect, even.
Then: “I've got to go to work.”
Bernard frowns. “You came in really late last night, Tim. Shouldn't you take a break?”
“I've survived with less sleep.”
“That's not the point,” Bernard says, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Tim rolls out of bed, already beginning to discard his clothes as Bernard hauls himself out of bed to follow his wayward boyfriend. “The point is that you should take today off to rest and catch up on sleep!”
Tim walks into the bathroom, waving Bernard off dismissively. “Bear, I've pulled all nighters before for several days. All-weekers? Whatever. This is fine. I can run on four hours of sleep.”
“Four hours is a bit gracious, don't you think?” He replies dryly, following his boyfriend into the bathroom and wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, pressing his chest to Tim's back. “You got maybe two and a half hours of sleep at most.”
“Still more than none.”
“I'd prefer it if you got more than five,” Bernard huffs, pressing open kisses to Tim's neck. He has to resist the urge to suck and nip and bite marks into the pale expanse of skin.
CEO’s have an image and all that. Plus, the collar of Tim's suit only covers so much.
“Bear,” Tim gurgles past his toothbrush. “I've got like, nine meetings today.”
“I know damn well you can reschedule half, and the other half you don't even need to be there for,” Bernard says, mostly bullshitting his protests. He pulls off Tim, much to his boyfriends displeasure. The man is sending him a disgruntled look through the mirror. Bernard can't quite hold in his snort.
“I have a responsibility–”
“–to the company, yes I know.” Bernard gives Tim an exasperated look, bumping him out of the way with his hip so he can brush his own teeth. “You can't help anyone if you're a second away from falling asleep, Tim.”
The double meaning in Bernard's words silence Tim's protests, and they finish their morning routine with no more exchanges of words.
It grips at Bernard’s heart.
Later, when they're making breakfast and coffee, Bernard speaks up again because he really doesn't want Tim to exhaust himself more than he has.
“Take the day off with me. It's my day off and it can be yours too,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Just to make the conversation a little lighter.
It's a bit funny the way it actually seems to work, making Tim pause and consider.
“I can't,” Tim says eventually, looking genuinely upset with himself for having said no to a day of lazy sex with Bernard. For some strange reason, it makes Bernard’s heart melt. “I have projects to complete, things to sign, projects to oversee–”
Bernard turns the stove off, moving the pan off the burner and stepping into Tim's space. His voice is quiet, devoid of the playful nature he'd exuded earlier.
“Tim, you can't keep overworking yourself like this,” Bernard says, taking his boyfriend's hands in his own hand and lifting them to his lips for a delicate kiss.
Tim's eyes soften noticeably. “Bear, you know I can't–”
“Can't or won't?”
That seems to make Tim pause again, for different reasons than before. He seems to be contemplating Bernard’s words, really contemplating them.
“It's.. hard to take a day for myself,” Tim admits, taking his hands back to instead grip onto Bernard’s hips. “But for you? I will. I promise. Today is our day off. No emergencies.”
“Slow your roll cowboy,” Bernard snorts, wrapping his arms around Tim's neck. “You can't promise that, you'll jinx it.”
Tim smirks, brow quirking up in amusement. “I'll jinx it?”
“You'll jinx it. What if my pager goes off?”
“It's your day off.”
“You think the rogues will respect that?”
“I'll make them.”
“Like you could ever make the Joker do anything.”
Bernard lays awake in bed, propped up on his elbow as he gently traces the curve of Tim's nose with the tip of his finger, eyes taking in features he's had memorized since their freshman year in high school.
Surprisingly, there have been no rouge attacks that Signal couldn't handle on his own. And not once did Bernard's pager go off.
He'd checked the battery out of suspicion.
It was working perfectly.
He's still not convinced Tim didn't do something to his pager or his job to ensure he wasn't disturbed today. Tim has that whole supervillain air to him, gets almost maniacal with his plans.
But it's okay because it's kind of really cute.
God, Bernard is whipped. To the tenth degree, really. Tim almost makes him want to share his entire past and family history.
Well. Mostly.
The thought of discussing what went down with the Children of Dionysus makes him want to vomit and shoot himself in the head.
Bernard would kind of, maybe, sort of, probably put up with it if it meant he'd be opening himself up to Tim completely.
The things people do for love, huh?