very literal curtain fic ahead
More ficlet than anything else. Actually, more "excuse to write fluff" than anything else; 
shinysylver pointed out that I whump Tim an awful lot, considering how much I like him, and challenged me to write curtainfic for him instead.
There are definitely curtains.
Slightly Dick/Tim; roughly 800 words. Completely self-indulgent and silly.
Being a vigilante is sometimes difficult.
It's not about the cuts and the bruises; it's not the fact that the average vigilante/hero-type faces down his or her own death on a basis that's so regular that the threats lose the ability to be startling. It's not the constant need for excuses or how often things like nights off don't happen.
No, if Tim had to pick one thing that he'd label difficult about his life, it would be how it's scheduled.
Tim's a night owl and always has been; the late nights aren't a problem for him. The issue is that being up all night necessitates sleeping during the day.
When it's bright out.
This hadn't been a problem until this point in Tim’s life. In his father's house, Tim had positioned his bed in the far corner of the room, away from the windows; when they'd moved into Gotham proper, the windows had been too small and high to let in much light. His room in the manor had a bed with a canopy. Now that he's on his own, though, he's finding out quickly that one of the things he'd admired most about his new apartment - the gigantic windows that give him such a great view of the city - are a vigilante's nightmares turned reality.
"Tim," Dick says brightly, holding out a package, "these are nice."
Tim sighs. Curtain shopping should be a one-man activity, he thinks. There really wasn't any need to bring Dick along, except that Dick has been out of town more than he’s been home lately. When he'd shown up as Tim was leaving his apartment earlier, Tim had mentioned his task, and Dick had offered to "come along and help" choose some curtains.
“Tim-time”, he'd said happily. “Maybe we can grab lunch after? Do you have time?”
Tim isn't great at this whole sort-of-dating thing, but he’d known enough to know that the right answer to that question was “Sure, Dick, I found a good burger joint not too far from here.”
"Tim," Dick says again, impatiently this time. He's shaking the plastic package in Tim's direction. "What do you think?"
"Uh," Tim says, blinking at the package. "Those are really…. um."
Dick's innocent look is too practiced to be real. "I like them."
They're Nightwing-blue, top to bottom. They appear to be the heavy floor-to-ceiling kind, though, and that's really all Tim wants out of his curtains: something to block the sun while he's trying to get a good morning's sleep before rolling out of bed at the crack of noon. That, coupled with the look Dick is shooting him over the top of the packaging, makes Tim nod. "They're very nice, Dick. Do they have enough in stock?"
Dick's brilliant smile is answer enough. He grabs three more packages and heads for the front of the store, talking a mile a minute about throw pillows and curtain rods and area rugs. Tim just nods along, watching with something that's not quite dread as Dick piles thing after thing into the cart. The cashier giggles when Dick smiles at her and throws an arm around Tim's shoulders. "New apartment," he says, beaming.
"Oh," the girl coos. "Is this the first time you guys have lived together?"
Tim can feel himself blushing almost violently, but Dick just grins wider, somehow, and smacks a kiss to Tim's forehead. "Nah, just the first time we get to decorate together."
"Dick," Tim hisses, but Dick turns his sunny smile in Tim's direction, and all Tim can do is sigh and send a small smile back.
"Good luck with the decorating," the girl says when she hands Dick the last bag. "Keep us in mind when you do the other rooms, too. We have bedsheets that match your new curtains."
Dick is almost to the door when the girl finishes, but he spins as soon as he hears what she's saying. "Really?"
The girl nods, shooting Tim a look. Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs, and the girl giggles. "It's a really popular color," she says. "It's called 'midnight blue', but we call it 'Nightwing.'"
Tim doesn't roll his eyes again when Dick snaps his fingers, but it's a near thing. "I thought I'd seen the color before! Hey, Tim, they're Nightwing-colored." He leans in towards the girl, as if he's sharing a secret. "Tim really likes Nightwing. That's his favorite vigilante."
"Don't be jealous," the girl says immediately. "He's completely gorgeous. No offense," she tacks on, coloring a little.
"I don't think I have anything to worry about," Dick says breezily, smiling at Tim before turning back to the girl. "So, about those sheets…"
Tim can't help the way the smile spreads across his face as he follows Dick back into the store.
This was originally posted here, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.
shinysylver pointed out that I whump Tim an awful lot, considering how much I like him, and challenged me to write curtainfic for him instead.
There are definitely curtains.
Slightly Dick/Tim; roughly 800 words. Completely self-indulgent and silly.
Being a vigilante is sometimes difficult.
It's not about the cuts and the bruises; it's not the fact that the average vigilante/hero-type faces down his or her own death on a basis that's so regular that the threats lose the ability to be startling. It's not the constant need for excuses or how often things like nights off don't happen.
No, if Tim had to pick one thing that he'd label difficult about his life, it would be how it's scheduled.
Tim's a night owl and always has been; the late nights aren't a problem for him. The issue is that being up all night necessitates sleeping during the day.
When it's bright out.
This hadn't been a problem until this point in Tim’s life. In his father's house, Tim had positioned his bed in the far corner of the room, away from the windows; when they'd moved into Gotham proper, the windows had been too small and high to let in much light. His room in the manor had a bed with a canopy. Now that he's on his own, though, he's finding out quickly that one of the things he'd admired most about his new apartment - the gigantic windows that give him such a great view of the city - are a vigilante's nightmares turned reality.
"Tim," Dick says brightly, holding out a package, "these are nice."
Tim sighs. Curtain shopping should be a one-man activity, he thinks. There really wasn't any need to bring Dick along, except that Dick has been out of town more than he’s been home lately. When he'd shown up as Tim was leaving his apartment earlier, Tim had mentioned his task, and Dick had offered to "come along and help" choose some curtains.
“Tim-time”, he'd said happily. “Maybe we can grab lunch after? Do you have time?”
Tim isn't great at this whole sort-of-dating thing, but he’d known enough to know that the right answer to that question was “Sure, Dick, I found a good burger joint not too far from here.”
"Tim," Dick says again, impatiently this time. He's shaking the plastic package in Tim's direction. "What do you think?"
"Uh," Tim says, blinking at the package. "Those are really…. um."
Dick's innocent look is too practiced to be real. "I like them."
They're Nightwing-blue, top to bottom. They appear to be the heavy floor-to-ceiling kind, though, and that's really all Tim wants out of his curtains: something to block the sun while he's trying to get a good morning's sleep before rolling out of bed at the crack of noon. That, coupled with the look Dick is shooting him over the top of the packaging, makes Tim nod. "They're very nice, Dick. Do they have enough in stock?"
Dick's brilliant smile is answer enough. He grabs three more packages and heads for the front of the store, talking a mile a minute about throw pillows and curtain rods and area rugs. Tim just nods along, watching with something that's not quite dread as Dick piles thing after thing into the cart. The cashier giggles when Dick smiles at her and throws an arm around Tim's shoulders. "New apartment," he says, beaming.
"Oh," the girl coos. "Is this the first time you guys have lived together?"
Tim can feel himself blushing almost violently, but Dick just grins wider, somehow, and smacks a kiss to Tim's forehead. "Nah, just the first time we get to decorate together."
"Dick," Tim hisses, but Dick turns his sunny smile in Tim's direction, and all Tim can do is sigh and send a small smile back.
"Good luck with the decorating," the girl says when she hands Dick the last bag. "Keep us in mind when you do the other rooms, too. We have bedsheets that match your new curtains."
Dick is almost to the door when the girl finishes, but he spins as soon as he hears what she's saying. "Really?"
The girl nods, shooting Tim a look. Tim rolls his eyes and shrugs, and the girl giggles. "It's a really popular color," she says. "It's called 'midnight blue', but we call it 'Nightwing.'"
Tim doesn't roll his eyes again when Dick snaps his fingers, but it's a near thing. "I thought I'd seen the color before! Hey, Tim, they're Nightwing-colored." He leans in towards the girl, as if he's sharing a secret. "Tim really likes Nightwing. That's his favorite vigilante."
"Don't be jealous," the girl says immediately. "He's completely gorgeous. No offense," she tacks on, coloring a little.
"I don't think I have anything to worry about," Dick says breezily, smiling at Tim before turning back to the girl. "So, about those sheets…"
Tim can't help the way the smile spreads across his face as he follows Dick back into the store.
This was originally posted here, where it has
comments. Comment here or there.