Fic: 'Now' (Dick/Tim)
Title: Now
Rating: PG-13, extremely light R.
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Author: Meg (_michael_sama)
Summery: Tim thinks about the past, Dick has other plans.
Feedback: Yes please!
Warnings: Very very slightly implied sex, Tim-introspection, and lots of schmoopy fluff. This fic has no real context and no spoilers that I can think of.
Notes: This is my first ever foray into DC fandom, so I'm a little anxious to see how my characterization of these boys turns out. Also, this is un-beta'd, so if you notice any typos, please point them out! I did the best I could to catch them all, but I'm awful at spot checking my own work.
Like nearly everyone else on the planet, Tim Drake didn’t have much in the way of memories from his deep childhood. Sure, there were always vague bits, fragments of family vacations, ghostly tugs of nostalgia triggered by inexplicable hits to his senses. Not much beyond that.
His mom would tease him about it, as she’d sit at the kitchen table thumbing through old photo albums. “Were you there for your own childhood?” She’d ask, and then laugh, and Tim would roll his eyes and tell Janet that he doubted she could remember any more about her own than he could.
Even those thoughts seemed far away now.
He’d never bothered to correct his mother, it seemed like a trifle at the time - But there was always one picture, one moment from his early years that he could remember with perfect clarity.
He couldn’t have been older than three when his parents had taken him to Haly’s Circus. There was no real occasion, Jack had said it was a good experience for a growing boy, and Janet hadn’t really made that much of a stink about it. Tim had barely understood everything his parents had explained to him as they packed him into the car (Admittedly, most of the talking was done by Janet, trying to tell him that they could leave if he were to get to afraid, and thusly, pretty irrelevant anyway). But the bright lights and overwhelming sounds that bombarded him when he stepped out of the vehicle had really needed no introduction.
Maybe the instinctual love of bright colors, cotton candy and overly buttered popcorn was something innate to anyone old enough to walk, perhaps even younger.
Jack eagerly pointed out different animals and costumed men and women as he ushered his son towards the mountainous big top. He smiled so brightly as he watched little Tim follow his gaze with such intensely calculating wonderment. As if the three-year-old were somehow filing away all this new information into a mental library that had only just begun to be collected. His boy was a smart one, he knew it.
Janet had been the one to notice the Graysons as they walked by, nudging her husband’s shoulder as he pointed out a tiger in a colorful cage to Tim.
“Honey! Honey look!” Her words were hushed, force of habit since there was absolutely no way anyone that far away from them could have overheard anything in this din. “Let’s get a picture, so we’ll have something to show Tim when he gets older,”
Tim looked up upon hearing his name. The faces of the people his parents seemed so interested in where very familiar. He could remember them from the flyers, the ones that stuck to the sides of buildings and telephone poles with words in fun lettering that he could not yet read.
They had a boy with them too, older than Tim, but not yet a teenager. Tim remembered his face the most - The boy actually noticed them, looked over and smiled while his parents continued talking to each other.
Tim must have missed whatever his parents had said next, because the next thing he was aware of, he was being ushered clumsily over to the other family.
Jack had shook John’s hand, smiling just as broadly as he had before as Janet had offered Mary a charming wave. Tim was too short to see completely eye to eye with Dick, but he could still see the taller boy’s cheery expression as he stood before him.
“And this is our boy, Tim,” Jack had said, still speaking to the other man and his wife as he clamped a hand down on Tim’s shoulder.
“Hi, Tim!” The taller boy beamed, taking Tim’s hand in a mock hand-shake (Tim may have been brighter than the average three-year-old, but that sort of social pleasantry was still not completely understood), “I’m Dick!” Dick introduced with the uncaring enthusiasm of any confidant twelve year old boy.
“Hi,” Tim etched the name into his brain, nodding in slow understanding.
Jack had said something else and Tim must have lost track of things again, because next he knew his father was once again ushering him, this time into a casual pose with the other family. Dick had easily pulled Tim nearly onto his lap as he crouched down beside him, still beaming just as easily as he had been when they’d first noticed each other.
The stranger said something about smiling and cheese, but Tim didn’t pay much attention. Dick’s enthusiasm was rubbing off, and that mixed with the infectiously bright atmosphere were making him smile, not some man he’d never met.
The stranger moved to hand the camera back to Jack and the pose came apart, each family easing back onto their respective sides.
Before they parted ways, Dick had ruffled Tim’s hair with a familiar sort of casualty that probably would have startled the usually shy Tim anywhere else. “Watch me tonight, kay? It’ll be for you,”
And then he was gone, trailing behind his family to head back to their own tents and prepare for the show.
It felt almost strange now, to revisit those memories after so many years. Nostalgic may have been a better word, an equally balanced bittersweet. Almost eleven years, and look where the time had taken him. Taken them both.
Tim heaved a sigh, shifting closer to the mass of warmth on his left, which reacted by coiling it’s arm a little tighter around his waist.
“Go back to sleep, little brother, you’re thinking to loud,” Dick’s voice was quieted and husky with sleep.
“Mmm, sorry,” Tim’s wasn’t much better off as he shifted to get comfortable, resting his head half on the pillow, half on Dick’s shoulder. He didn’t close his eyes.
“Yeah, right.” Dick’s chest shook with a severely condensed laugh, and Tim didn’t need to see his face or look in his eyes to hear the smile in his voice, “What’s on your mind?”
“You. Me. Time.” Tim would have shrugged if he could have in this position, “Lots of things,”
Dick laughed again, “Don’t you dare start into that ‘meaning of life’ crap with me, kiddo.” The hand that wasn’t on Tim’s hip came up to ruffle his hair, “Bruce has got you meditating too much.”
Tim grunted but didn’t bother to fight back. He needed to take a shower anyway; there wasn’t much that could be done about his hair now, “Nothing that deep, I promise.” Tim finally let his eyes fall closed again, “About the past, I guess.”
“Like that’s any better. You know what they say about living in the past, Tim?”
Tim sensed a bait, and decided to bite for once, “What do they say?”
“Actually, I don’t know either, but I’m sure it’s something about not doing it.” Dick’s laugh was a little less sleep laden this time, “Nothing you can do to change it now anyway,” The hand on Tim’s hip began moving in slow, massaging circles, “You’ve gotta learn to live in the now,”
Tim’s breath hitched in his throat as Dick’s thumb traced a callused trail against the curve of his hipbone and his thigh. “Let me guess, you’ve got some kind of witty, perverted quip on the tip of your tongue about ‘teaching’ me?” Sarcasm, but there was a smile across Tim’s lips.
“You know me to well,” Dick shifted his weight and Tim suddenly found himself flat on his back against the mattress, the larger man pinning him gently with both hands. “So, how about it? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good teacher,”
Tim just rolled his eyes, and let Dick kiss him. And as he does, he has to admit that maybe, just maybe, Dick has a point.
The past has come and gone and there’s nothing he can do about that. In fact, he’s not really sure he’d want to do anything about it.
As Dick’s hand comes up to absently stroke his hair, Tim smiles.
He’s perfectly happy where he is now.
OMG GUYS, Meg wrote a fucking fanfic. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE WORLD?!
Rating: PG-13, extremely light R.
Pairing: Dick/Tim
Author: Meg (_michael_sama)
Summery: Tim thinks about the past, Dick has other plans.
Feedback: Yes please!
Warnings: Very very slightly implied sex, Tim-introspection, and lots of schmoopy fluff. This fic has no real context and no spoilers that I can think of.
Notes: This is my first ever foray into DC fandom, so I'm a little anxious to see how my characterization of these boys turns out. Also, this is un-beta'd, so if you notice any typos, please point them out! I did the best I could to catch them all, but I'm awful at spot checking my own work.
Like nearly everyone else on the planet, Tim Drake didn’t have much in the way of memories from his deep childhood. Sure, there were always vague bits, fragments of family vacations, ghostly tugs of nostalgia triggered by inexplicable hits to his senses. Not much beyond that.
His mom would tease him about it, as she’d sit at the kitchen table thumbing through old photo albums. “Were you there for your own childhood?” She’d ask, and then laugh, and Tim would roll his eyes and tell Janet that he doubted she could remember any more about her own than he could.
Even those thoughts seemed far away now.
He’d never bothered to correct his mother, it seemed like a trifle at the time - But there was always one picture, one moment from his early years that he could remember with perfect clarity.
He couldn’t have been older than three when his parents had taken him to Haly’s Circus. There was no real occasion, Jack had said it was a good experience for a growing boy, and Janet hadn’t really made that much of a stink about it. Tim had barely understood everything his parents had explained to him as they packed him into the car (Admittedly, most of the talking was done by Janet, trying to tell him that they could leave if he were to get to afraid, and thusly, pretty irrelevant anyway). But the bright lights and overwhelming sounds that bombarded him when he stepped out of the vehicle had really needed no introduction.
Maybe the instinctual love of bright colors, cotton candy and overly buttered popcorn was something innate to anyone old enough to walk, perhaps even younger.
Jack eagerly pointed out different animals and costumed men and women as he ushered his son towards the mountainous big top. He smiled so brightly as he watched little Tim follow his gaze with such intensely calculating wonderment. As if the three-year-old were somehow filing away all this new information into a mental library that had only just begun to be collected. His boy was a smart one, he knew it.
Janet had been the one to notice the Graysons as they walked by, nudging her husband’s shoulder as he pointed out a tiger in a colorful cage to Tim.
“Honey! Honey look!” Her words were hushed, force of habit since there was absolutely no way anyone that far away from them could have overheard anything in this din. “Let’s get a picture, so we’ll have something to show Tim when he gets older,”
Tim looked up upon hearing his name. The faces of the people his parents seemed so interested in where very familiar. He could remember them from the flyers, the ones that stuck to the sides of buildings and telephone poles with words in fun lettering that he could not yet read.
They had a boy with them too, older than Tim, but not yet a teenager. Tim remembered his face the most - The boy actually noticed them, looked over and smiled while his parents continued talking to each other.
Tim must have missed whatever his parents had said next, because the next thing he was aware of, he was being ushered clumsily over to the other family.
Jack had shook John’s hand, smiling just as broadly as he had before as Janet had offered Mary a charming wave. Tim was too short to see completely eye to eye with Dick, but he could still see the taller boy’s cheery expression as he stood before him.
“And this is our boy, Tim,” Jack had said, still speaking to the other man and his wife as he clamped a hand down on Tim’s shoulder.
“Hi, Tim!” The taller boy beamed, taking Tim’s hand in a mock hand-shake (Tim may have been brighter than the average three-year-old, but that sort of social pleasantry was still not completely understood), “I’m Dick!” Dick introduced with the uncaring enthusiasm of any confidant twelve year old boy.
“Hi,” Tim etched the name into his brain, nodding in slow understanding.
Jack had said something else and Tim must have lost track of things again, because next he knew his father was once again ushering him, this time into a casual pose with the other family. Dick had easily pulled Tim nearly onto his lap as he crouched down beside him, still beaming just as easily as he had been when they’d first noticed each other.
The stranger said something about smiling and cheese, but Tim didn’t pay much attention. Dick’s enthusiasm was rubbing off, and that mixed with the infectiously bright atmosphere were making him smile, not some man he’d never met.
The stranger moved to hand the camera back to Jack and the pose came apart, each family easing back onto their respective sides.
Before they parted ways, Dick had ruffled Tim’s hair with a familiar sort of casualty that probably would have startled the usually shy Tim anywhere else. “Watch me tonight, kay? It’ll be for you,”
And then he was gone, trailing behind his family to head back to their own tents and prepare for the show.
It felt almost strange now, to revisit those memories after so many years. Nostalgic may have been a better word, an equally balanced bittersweet. Almost eleven years, and look where the time had taken him. Taken them both.
Tim heaved a sigh, shifting closer to the mass of warmth on his left, which reacted by coiling it’s arm a little tighter around his waist.
“Go back to sleep, little brother, you’re thinking to loud,” Dick’s voice was quieted and husky with sleep.
“Mmm, sorry,” Tim’s wasn’t much better off as he shifted to get comfortable, resting his head half on the pillow, half on Dick’s shoulder. He didn’t close his eyes.
“Yeah, right.” Dick’s chest shook with a severely condensed laugh, and Tim didn’t need to see his face or look in his eyes to hear the smile in his voice, “What’s on your mind?”
“You. Me. Time.” Tim would have shrugged if he could have in this position, “Lots of things,”
Dick laughed again, “Don’t you dare start into that ‘meaning of life’ crap with me, kiddo.” The hand that wasn’t on Tim’s hip came up to ruffle his hair, “Bruce has got you meditating too much.”
Tim grunted but didn’t bother to fight back. He needed to take a shower anyway; there wasn’t much that could be done about his hair now, “Nothing that deep, I promise.” Tim finally let his eyes fall closed again, “About the past, I guess.”
“Like that’s any better. You know what they say about living in the past, Tim?”
Tim sensed a bait, and decided to bite for once, “What do they say?”
“Actually, I don’t know either, but I’m sure it’s something about not doing it.” Dick’s laugh was a little less sleep laden this time, “Nothing you can do to change it now anyway,” The hand on Tim’s hip began moving in slow, massaging circles, “You’ve gotta learn to live in the now,”
Tim’s breath hitched in his throat as Dick’s thumb traced a callused trail against the curve of his hipbone and his thigh. “Let me guess, you’ve got some kind of witty, perverted quip on the tip of your tongue about ‘teaching’ me?” Sarcasm, but there was a smile across Tim’s lips.
“You know me to well,” Dick shifted his weight and Tim suddenly found himself flat on his back against the mattress, the larger man pinning him gently with both hands. “So, how about it? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good teacher,”
Tim just rolled his eyes, and let Dick kiss him. And as he does, he has to admit that maybe, just maybe, Dick has a point.
The past has come and gone and there’s nothing he can do about that. In fact, he’s not really sure he’d want to do anything about it.
As Dick’s hand comes up to absently stroke his hair, Tim smiles.
He’s perfectly happy where he is now.
OMG GUYS, Meg wrote a fucking fanfic. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE WORLD?!