Pussycat wasn't a kitten

[123youreit]

WHO: Tim Drake-Wayne and Dick Grayson
WHERE: Dick's place
WHEN: Last Thursday (the 13th) lala backlogging
WARNINGS: Bat angst, cat ears.
SUMMARY: Tim has a lot to brood about and sometimes he just needs his big brother to talk to. Also, he's part cat.
FORMAT: I'ma start in para but we do what we want.

Comments

[batmantled]

Maybe it was wrong to send that message. Wrong to open up that line of communication, before Tim did. Wrong to push even that much, when Tim’s not asking for it. What’s one more half-typed apology or hey Tim-, or you know how we used to- for the recycle bin.

But this time it’s too late to take it back before it does any damage, and as much as it sucks that it took Tim getting taken out to push it this far, maybe it’s finally time to get things aired things out a little.

People grow up. Things change. It’s just his bad luck that this time it happened while he wasn’t looking. That the Tim he got when he showed up wasn’t the one he left behind. That’s he’s not the brother Tim’s supposed to have. Not the one he deserves.

He’s been trying to be understanding. Trying to take those hints and stay out of it. Trying to let Tim be... whoever it is he is now, with whoever it is he’s with. Trying to ignore that selfish, treacherous voice that misses being someone Tim sought out for things that mattered. That just misses Tim.So when Tim knocks

[123youreit]

He just raises an eyebrow and carefully lets the hat comment drop and kill off that conversational avenue - they'll get to why he's wearing a hat, but he's not doing that on the doorstep. "I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance it'd be better than what you have in the fridge." And possibly, he owes Dick at least one meal, even if it is just pizza. It's piled high with pepperoni and melted cheese, mercifully bereft of any of the sometimes slightly odd combinations of toppings that Tim can favour, like Canadian bacon and artichokes.

He slips around Dick to step into the hallway, and takes in the piles of laundry. "... Maybe I should have brought some laundry detergent instead."

[batmantled]

"Considering what I've got in the fridge right now caps out at, uh, ice cubes I'd say we have a winner." There's something to the hat and the coat, but for now he'll let it slide. Already it's been almost a whole minute of being in the same room, and he's not quite ready yet to risk it on an interrogation.

He nudges one of the smaller piles with his foot and steps over it. "Anyway, there's a path here..." And a sofa, somewhere.

[123youreit]

"I knew it. I need to start sending you care hampers." But he's not the mom, remember. He picks his way carefully through the piles, following the rough path and keeping that eyebrow firmly raised, until he finally manages to find the sofa. At which point... he has to decide whether or not he's going to take his coat off. He worries his bottom lip for a couple of seconds, but - sitting around trying to talk while wearing a big winter coat is just ridiculous to contemplate. And he was planning to let Dick know about the... new features... eventually, anyway.

"Don't laugh." That's all the warning Dick gets before Tim slips off his coat, folding it neatly on the back of the sofa before pulling off his hat. It suddenly becomes really obvious why he was wearing them, as a black pair of cat ears perk up and twitch in annoyance, right in place of his normal ears, and a matching black cat tail swishes behind him.

Dick had really better not laugh.