Thanks to cat-chan-fandom-hitchhiker for donating! You asked for some Tim fluff, so here it is! This was a lot of fun to write, actually.
Of all things Tim expects in the middle of a rare quiet afternoon in the manor, it's not Dick hauling Damian into the room under the armpits, winking at him when all Tim can do is slowly lower his tablet and gape. He'd wanted to take advantage of the quiet and work, but it looks like Dick has other plans.
"Follow me, Timmy," Dick says, brighten grin ever present, and he disappears down the hallway with Damian. Tim, curious despite himself, follows.
When he catches up to Dick, it's at the pool. It's freezing outside—the middle of December in Gotham isn't exactly pleasant—so Tim's glad that the doors that lead outside are firmly shut, and the room itself is pleasantly warm, a humidity in the air that has Tim almost relaxing.
He looks to Dick in askance, though, because he has no idea what they're doing here.
Dick sets Damian down and pulls out his phone, not sparing either of his little brothers a glance. The brat just sends Dick a short glare and steps away, but that's probably only because it's Dick. If anybody else had picked him up and carried him that way, Tim doesn't think anybody would find the body until it's far, far too late.
"Music preference?" Dick asks.
"Anything," Tim tells him. "Wanna tell me why we're in here?"
Dick hums, setting his phone down on a nearby chair as the tinny music starts to play and echo strangely in the room. "What do you usually do when you see the pool, Tim?"
"Run away," Tim tells him, "because either you or Jason will throw me in no matter what I say or do."
Dick laughs, that twinkle of amusement in his eye still. Like he's on a joke Tim's not privy to. And Damian doesn't look in on it, either, because the kid crosses his arms over his chest and shoots Dick the most unimpressed look he can manage. It doesn't work, but it's a valiant attempt.
"We're not even dressed in the correct swimming attire."
"You can swim in anything," Dick tells him, and that's all the warning Tim has before there are heavy footsteps heading straight for him.
Tim jumps out of the way, just in time for Jason to, fully clothed, to ram into Damian and send them both crashing into the pool with a shout. Tim watches with wide eyes as they both surface, Damian spluttering, insults and threats of evisceration at his lips. Jason just laughs.
Dick laughs, too, leaning over the edge of the pool. "You okay, Dami?"
"Don't think I won't kill you as well, Grayson!"
Dick chuckles again, and his scrunch up in a way that makes Dick look actually, truly happy. Something Tim hasn't think he's seen in a little while, if he thinks about it. "I'm happy you're thinking about me."
Damian gives a wordless shout and lunges at Jason again. The two go at each other's throats in the middle of the pool, the splashes echoing around the room, and Dick laughs genuinely at the scene. It's enough to spur Tim into a decision.
Before he can change his mind, Tim sets his phone down on the ground, and then he leaps onto Dick's back. Normally Dick's great at keeping his balance, even during unexpected circumstances. But Dick's already out of breath, leaning over the pool. The deck underneath him is wet. And Tim's momentum sends them both crashing into the pool.
The water muffles the sounds, but Tim surfaces eventually, still clinging to Dick's back like a koala, and they're both laughing now. Dick pushes his wet hair back and Tim recoils when some of it slaps him in the face.
"Dick," Tim huffs out, still laughing.
"You ninja'd me, Tim!" Dick tells him. He's grinning. "This means war, little brother!"
Tim pushes away from Dick and starts to swim for the other side of the pool. Dick's fast, though, and he grabs Tim's foot and pulls him in until he can start poking at Tim's face and stomach, making Tim laugh even harder. They end up grappling.
Eventually, Tim ends up sitting on Dick's shoulders, and the two of them share a look with each other. Tim grins and inclines his head towards where Jason and Damian are still practically fighting each other. Dick nods, wicked grin on his face, and Tim lets out a wordless war cry, using his older brother as spring board to leap at his other brothers.
Jason turns in surprise just in time for Tim to land on him and drag him under water while Dick handles Damian.
"You little shit!" Jason says when he comes back up, spitting up water.
"You were going to tackle me first!" Tim cries, deflecting Jason's lazy attempt to dunk him underwater. He's laughing too much to sound too put off about it, though, and so is Jason.
From a little ways away, Damian yells, "You're dead, Grayson!" but it doesn't sound angry.
Tim laughs and laughs as they go through some twisted versions of Marco Polo and a chicken fight, playing for different things like Alfred's cookies and their pick of a movie for movie nights and patrol routes.
All in all, it's a good afternoon. The quiet's gone, but Tim's actually having fun. And the others look like they are, too—even Damian—so Tim lets himself enjoy the rare time with his brothers.
In the end, when they're all tired out and wrapped up in towels as Alfred and Bruce look at their wet clothes completely unimpressed, Tim nudges Dick and says, "Thank you."
Dick beams at him. "No problem, Timbo. We've all been kind of stressed lately, and I figured we could use the day off to just let go." Dick's grin turns vicious. "You think it went well?"
Tim laughs, hugging his towel a little tighter around himself. His hair is probably sticking up ten ways to Sunday, and he's really cold, but he'd had a lot of fun. "Yeah," Tim says when he catches his breath, and he leans into his brother, even though Dick's just as soaked as he is. Dick catches him in a side-hug. "Yeah, I think it did."
Dick's smile is pure sunlight at this point, and Tim thinks he sees a few more days like this in his future.