Character Studies on Tim
Him first, because he's the easiest. Perhaps. Sort of.
Him first, because he has a brilliant, twisted little mind that I get faster. There.
Title: It's Not About Freud
Author: Kezzy
Spoilers: Only if you're not up to date with IC/OYL Teen Titans.
Rating: Er. PG-13 for light sexual suggestion.
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I make absolutely no monetary profit from them. So there.
Summary: Tim's subconscious is just as thorough as he is. If not a bit more creative.
“No matter what else, man, you have to admit it was a really sweet way to go.”
Tim’s had this dream before.
He turns his head just enough to put the floating Kon into his peripheral vision, eyes mostly focused on Gotham’s nightscape. He can see Kon rock back onto his heels, thumbs caught in his jeans pockets. There is an explosion in the distance and Kon laughs.
The laugh will echo its way into Tim’s consciousness tomorrow at school and he will shiver against years of training.
“Looks like someone just tried to blow up Batman, again, for like, the thousandth-millionth time. Hey-what are you going to do when Batman finally has his very bad day?”
Tim grimaces his reply, dropping into a crouch and needlessly braces one hand on the edge of the roof.
“You never talk to me during these things. Dude, trust me, I know you’re no Bart when it comes to conversations, but this is ridiculous. I’m carving time for you out of a very busy afterlife schedule, you know. For all you know, I could be surrounded by a ridiculous amount of Amazon babes-don’t mention that to Cass, though. Seriously, the least you could do is have an almost-conversation with me. Or dream about handcuffing Rose again-that was hot. Again, don’t mention that to Cass. Especially that, actually.”
It isn’t that he doesn’t want to speak, doesn’t want to tell Kon how the hundredth-and-forty-third cloning attempt is going, doesn’t want to tell him about the Titans, the fracture that Kon’s death made, the one that Tim’s absence widened, how frighteningly right Rose is ending up, how . . . He just . . . Kon isn’t alive anymore. This isn’t actually a conversation.
Yet.
So he presses his mouth together and sets his face in a Batman expression, mentally reviewing possible tweaks he could make for the next attempt. Things he could do better. Different combinations of compounds. Different-
“Oh, hey, is that why you have a new Mini-Bat suit? You’re getting ready to prepare yourself if the suit Batman thinks you don’t know about needs to get worn? Should’ve gotten a cowl, then, that’ll be the hardest thing to get used to. Will you get a new Robin or just see if you could con Dick back into those man-panties and-“
Tim’s outfit shifts, melts from the new one back to the old and his now-green hand tightens and cracks into the cement it gripped. It swallows his hand up to the forearm and he can see the cement bleeding up his arm slowly, can hear the tiny teeth working up along his gauntlet. He wonders if they’ll draw blood when they reach his arm.
He starts to wonder why his subconscious Kon put him in the old suit before he can feel the other’s body heat-Kon always ran so hot, even when he was just sitting around-pressed up against his back. Kon is bigger than he is and he hopes his calculations for the cloning execute correctly, in this regard. His hand, big and warm, slides down his forearm towards the cement creeping upwards, and Tim cannot repress the shiver.
The soft sigh.
“Is there a machine for Bart, too? For Gar and Raven? Cass? Hey, Tim, I hate to burst your bubble, but you can’t help everyone.”
The cement feels dead and cold swallowed around his right arm and Kon’s hand is sun-hot through his jock.
Tim’s had this dream before.
.end.
Him first, because he has a brilliant, twisted little mind that I get faster. There.
Title: It's Not About Freud
Author: Kezzy
Spoilers: Only if you're not up to date with IC/OYL Teen Titans.
Rating: Er. PG-13 for light sexual suggestion.
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I make absolutely no monetary profit from them. So there.
Summary: Tim's subconscious is just as thorough as he is. If not a bit more creative.
“No matter what else, man, you have to admit it was a really sweet way to go.”
Tim’s had this dream before.
He turns his head just enough to put the floating Kon into his peripheral vision, eyes mostly focused on Gotham’s nightscape. He can see Kon rock back onto his heels, thumbs caught in his jeans pockets. There is an explosion in the distance and Kon laughs.
The laugh will echo its way into Tim’s consciousness tomorrow at school and he will shiver against years of training.
“Looks like someone just tried to blow up Batman, again, for like, the thousandth-millionth time. Hey-what are you going to do when Batman finally has his very bad day?”
Tim grimaces his reply, dropping into a crouch and needlessly braces one hand on the edge of the roof.
“You never talk to me during these things. Dude, trust me, I know you’re no Bart when it comes to conversations, but this is ridiculous. I’m carving time for you out of a very busy afterlife schedule, you know. For all you know, I could be surrounded by a ridiculous amount of Amazon babes-don’t mention that to Cass, though. Seriously, the least you could do is have an almost-conversation with me. Or dream about handcuffing Rose again-that was hot. Again, don’t mention that to Cass. Especially that, actually.”
It isn’t that he doesn’t want to speak, doesn’t want to tell Kon how the hundredth-and-forty-third cloning attempt is going, doesn’t want to tell him about the Titans, the fracture that Kon’s death made, the one that Tim’s absence widened, how frighteningly right Rose is ending up, how . . . He just . . . Kon isn’t alive anymore. This isn’t actually a conversation.
Yet.
So he presses his mouth together and sets his face in a Batman expression, mentally reviewing possible tweaks he could make for the next attempt. Things he could do better. Different combinations of compounds. Different-
“Oh, hey, is that why you have a new Mini-Bat suit? You’re getting ready to prepare yourself if the suit Batman thinks you don’t know about needs to get worn? Should’ve gotten a cowl, then, that’ll be the hardest thing to get used to. Will you get a new Robin or just see if you could con Dick back into those man-panties and-“
Tim’s outfit shifts, melts from the new one back to the old and his now-green hand tightens and cracks into the cement it gripped. It swallows his hand up to the forearm and he can see the cement bleeding up his arm slowly, can hear the tiny teeth working up along his gauntlet. He wonders if they’ll draw blood when they reach his arm.
He starts to wonder why his subconscious Kon put him in the old suit before he can feel the other’s body heat-Kon always ran so hot, even when he was just sitting around-pressed up against his back. Kon is bigger than he is and he hopes his calculations for the cloning execute correctly, in this regard. His hand, big and warm, slides down his forearm towards the cement creeping upwards, and Tim cannot repress the shiver.
The soft sigh.
“Is there a machine for Bart, too? For Gar and Raven? Cass? Hey, Tim, I hate to burst your bubble, but you can’t help everyone.”
The cement feels dead and cold swallowed around his right arm and Kon’s hand is sun-hot through his jock.
Tim’s had this dream before.
.end.