(no subject)
WHO: Dick and Bruce.
WHERE: Dick's apartment omg.
WHEN: Thursday afternoon.
WARNINGS: None.
SUMMARY: Bruce knows how to respect personal space/alone time. He just chooses not to.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
Dick is still going to school, because he actually has to get a high school diploma one day. Being a vigilante shouldn't be a life goal, and anyway, it's not as if he has anything else to do with his time.
He got an apartment the previous day, but hasn't signed a lease, yet. And he certainly isn't done moving. Mostly there's, well, all the furniture missing. And he's pretty sure the landlord know he's really not sixteen-soon-seventeen because he doesn't look it, but he has about fifteen thousands on the tags and negotiated to give a down payment for four months. Buying people's never really hard.
He won't be settled and living there for a week, probably, because buying and moving a bed in isn't the easiest thing (looking exactly his age isn't going to help either; at least he looks his age, now, and not eight).
Or, well, that's what he thought before he drops by the apartment to move a few things after school and walks on half a dozen men leaving the place. He frowns and is about to call them out about 'what are you doing in my place, get out' when he spots Bruce inside.
There's a couch and stuff in the non-living room - because the place isn't big enough to call anything a living room - and Dick would bet that he also now has a bed and a dresser in the bedroom. He can't seriously be surprised because this is Bruce, and of course Bruce would intrude in his life when he doesn't want him to, and he'd make sure he had a decent bed but. Still. It's been less than twenty-four hours since this became his place and nothing is even official yet.
He has no idea if Bruce is currently going by the name 'Bruce' or not so he decides to wait for him to finish the transaction with - the movers?... whoever - before he sighs and just. Stares.
“Do I want to know how you managed that this quickly?”
WHERE: Dick's apartment omg.
WHEN: Thursday afternoon.
WARNINGS: None.
SUMMARY: Bruce knows how to respect personal space/alone time. He just chooses not to.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
Dick is still going to school, because he actually has to get a high school diploma one day. Being a vigilante shouldn't be a life goal, and anyway, it's not as if he has anything else to do with his time.
He got an apartment the previous day, but hasn't signed a lease, yet. And he certainly isn't done moving. Mostly there's, well, all the furniture missing. And he's pretty sure the landlord know he's really not sixteen-soon-seventeen because he doesn't look it, but he has about fifteen thousands on the tags and negotiated to give a down payment for four months. Buying people's never really hard.
He won't be settled and living there for a week, probably, because buying and moving a bed in isn't the easiest thing (looking exactly his age isn't going to help either; at least he looks his age, now, and not eight).
Or, well, that's what he thought before he drops by the apartment to move a few things after school and walks on half a dozen men leaving the place. He frowns and is about to call them out about 'what are you doing in my place, get out' when he spots Bruce inside.
There's a couch and stuff in the non-living room - because the place isn't big enough to call anything a living room - and Dick would bet that he also now has a bed and a dresser in the bedroom. He can't seriously be surprised because this is Bruce, and of course Bruce would intrude in his life when he doesn't want him to, and he'd make sure he had a decent bed but. Still. It's been less than twenty-four hours since this became his place and nothing is even official yet.
He has no idea if Bruce is currently going by the name 'Bruce' or not so he decides to wait for him to finish the transaction with - the movers?... whoever - before he sighs and just. Stares.
“Do I want to know how you managed that this quickly?”