Prompt Post - Part Three [CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS]
THIS PART IS NOW CLOSED. YOU CAN CONTINUE POSTING FILLS, BUT PLEASE PROMPT ALL NEW THINGS HERE.
Part one here!
Part two here!
Feel free to reprompt posts from parts one and in part three once. If you do so, I'd reccommend leaving a link to your fill on the original prompt, in case somebody is tracking the first thread.
Please note that you can still ( Read more... )
It was quiet in the base and Tim crept through dark hallways looking for Dick's room. He'd only ever seen Mount Justice in the form of blueprints and schematics, not necessarily the best way to find out where Dick might have left his stuff.
"Door," Tim subvocalized to himself as he crept around, "Door, Aqualad's room, another door..."
He was lost.
By the time he wandered into the kitchen Tim was starting to doubt whether or not he would really be able to find the grapple at all. The likelihood that Dick would have left something in the kitchen was small, but Tim didn't know where else to look.
"Rob?"
And now he was fucked.
Tim spun around, his eyes widening a little at the sight of a pajama-clad Superboy. "Uh. Hi. Superboy."
Superboy was blinking in confusion, a huge hand coming up to rub at sleepy eyes. He was wearing a pair of loose pants (donated, Tim expected, by Bruce) and no shirt. Something about the hard plane of his abdominal muscles was captivating.
"What are you doing here?"
"Umm..." Why wasn't he flipping out? Did he think Tim was Dick?
It would be a reasonable mistake to make. Their costumes were designed to hide their differences after all.
"I left my grapple here when I left," Tim said, trying to mimic Dick's voice as best he could, "I came back so that Batman wouldn't, umm... Roast me."
"Oh." Superboy stumbled over to the refrigerator and pulled out some milk, taking a long drink directly from the carton. Tim resisted the urge to make a face in disgust. Dick did the same thing, after all.
"So. Have you seen it?" He asked.
There was a tiny droplet of milk on the corner of Superboy's chin. Tim was finding it hard to look away.
He wondered if Superboy's skin felt as smooth as it looked.
"Yeah. I think it was on the couch." Superboy's head gestured in the direction of the living area.
"Okay, thanks." Tim said with a smile. He shuffled his feet but didn't move from his spot. There was something missing. He didn't want the conversation to end, but what was he supposed to say?
This sort of thing was not Tim's forte.
The silence stretched out for miles.
"So... I guess I'll head back to Gotham." Tim said finally.
"Yeah." Superboy said, "See you next weekend."
He turned, heading back to his room, and Tim watched him go.
"See you next weekend." He whispered to himself.
Tim grabbed the grapple from between the cushions of the couch (how did it get there?) noticing the scattering of unopened snacks and video games. This was obviously a place for group bonding and relaxation. Dick probably played games here, probably spent his time on this couch with Kid Flash and Artemis and Superboy.
Tim took a seat on the couch, disliking the plushness of the cushions, and imagined himself there during the day, surrounded by all of Dick's friends.
It wasn't an easy thing to imagine. He'd told Bruce that he didn't want to be a member of the youth team for a reason. He'd assumed that he wouldn't have anything to say to these kids. He was surprised that Dick got along with them as well as he did.
Dick had always been the more social of the two of them, though. Some leftover remnant of the circus combined with a natural affinity for people. Tim, on the other hand, had an affinity for computers and criminal profiling, and he'd never really minded that too much.
But now Dick had his own friends, and his own space, and a couch on which he did real kid things.
Tim stood, pocketed the grapple, and headed for home. But first he cleaned all the crumbs off the couch.
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