Fic: Developer; Tim char piece, PG
Title: Developer
Author: Kezzy
Rating: PG, I suppose? Definitely not adult, how's that?
Timeline: Post Jason Todd's Death
Disclaimer: Not mine. Make no money from them.
Summary: Tim is pretty sure he's seen the right things in the pictures he's taken
Word Count: 465
Maybe there's a limit to how much clothing a Robin can wear. When Tim first started . . . watching them, he couldn't honestly wrap his mind around Batman having a . . . thing for Robin. He'd stayed with this mindset until he'd gotten a shot of the vigilante watching his second protégé fly.
It had been embarrassing, the first time he watched the image flood to life in the developing pan. He’d blushed heavily as he pinned it to the line to dry. Unable to help himself, he’d smudged Batman’s jaw line with the edge of his fingertip, caught up in the examination of the intent behind the other’s eyes. The set of his mouth and-
Years later it still makes him blush but now that he knows more about the hunger behind that look (he’s read things, he’s studied and laid the biology of want to bare with his logic), and it makes something deep in his stomach clench and twist.
He closes the file and pushes the image from his mind, it won’t do, thinking about it while he’s-no, it won’t do to think of it.
He slips his feet into his sneakers and looks at the mirror, trying to quell the fear that wants to shake up his throat. It’s hard to imagine Dick nervous, but logic dictates that he must have been nervous once, so Tim drums up the imagined picture of how Dick would deal with it in an effort to steel himself. His palms are cold and damp and he knows his voice will shake if he isn’t careful.
If he isn’t just right.
He takes a breath and thinks of the way Dick looked when he used to fly as Robin. How Jason’s grin turned to Batman and how Batman would, for a moment, slip into Bruce before slipping back. Only the shutter of his camera could catch Bruce in Batman’s costume and it was only the one picture that had ever turned out just . . . right.
Tim looks back into the mirror and knows he is too skinny for the part, worries he is too short or slight looking and comforts himself with knowing that he fits the type, at least as far as his coloring and features are concerned. He’s intelligent too-he knows he has to be, to make up for the acrobat and brawler he isn’t. He is . . .
He wants to be . . . appealing.
He wants-
“I know who you are,” he says to the mirror, to the imaginary Dick Grayson that lurks behind it and tries to not look as terrified as he feels as he practices the speech he memorized weeks ago. Maybe, when the real Dick hears it, his voice won’t quake.
.end.
Author: Kezzy
Rating: PG, I suppose? Definitely not adult, how's that?
Timeline: Post Jason Todd's Death
Disclaimer: Not mine. Make no money from them.
Summary: Tim is pretty sure he's seen the right things in the pictures he's taken
Word Count: 465
Maybe there's a limit to how much clothing a Robin can wear. When Tim first started . . . watching them, he couldn't honestly wrap his mind around Batman having a . . . thing for Robin. He'd stayed with this mindset until he'd gotten a shot of the vigilante watching his second protégé fly.
It had been embarrassing, the first time he watched the image flood to life in the developing pan. He’d blushed heavily as he pinned it to the line to dry. Unable to help himself, he’d smudged Batman’s jaw line with the edge of his fingertip, caught up in the examination of the intent behind the other’s eyes. The set of his mouth and-
Years later it still makes him blush but now that he knows more about the hunger behind that look (he’s read things, he’s studied and laid the biology of want to bare with his logic), and it makes something deep in his stomach clench and twist.
He closes the file and pushes the image from his mind, it won’t do, thinking about it while he’s-no, it won’t do to think of it.
He slips his feet into his sneakers and looks at the mirror, trying to quell the fear that wants to shake up his throat. It’s hard to imagine Dick nervous, but logic dictates that he must have been nervous once, so Tim drums up the imagined picture of how Dick would deal with it in an effort to steel himself. His palms are cold and damp and he knows his voice will shake if he isn’t careful.
If he isn’t just right.
He takes a breath and thinks of the way Dick looked when he used to fly as Robin. How Jason’s grin turned to Batman and how Batman would, for a moment, slip into Bruce before slipping back. Only the shutter of his camera could catch Bruce in Batman’s costume and it was only the one picture that had ever turned out just . . . right.
Tim looks back into the mirror and knows he is too skinny for the part, worries he is too short or slight looking and comforts himself with knowing that he fits the type, at least as far as his coloring and features are concerned. He’s intelligent too-he knows he has to be, to make up for the acrobat and brawler he isn’t. He is . . .
He wants to be . . . appealing.
He wants-
“I know who you are,” he says to the mirror, to the imaginary Dick Grayson that lurks behind it and tries to not look as terrified as he feels as he practices the speech he memorized weeks ago. Maybe, when the real Dick hears it, his voice won’t quake.
.end.