DickTim Week Day 4: Nightwing Tim @dicktimweek
Tim's dreamt about this before.
He's pictured himself running his hands over the sleek, sculpted kevlar of the Nightwing suit at least twice a week since he's been old enough to know that he wanted it, wanted Dick, wanted those casual half-hugs and hair ruffles to be something that lingered.
He just never thought he'd be the one wearing it when his fingers traced the lines of the torso, padded slightly on the inside to make him look broader in the shoulders, slightly bulkier in the chest.
He glances up at Dick, and there's something inside him that catches at the sight of his expression. He looks wistful and maybe a little... proud?
Tim gets the mixed feelings. He does. He can't quite seem to decide on just one, himself.
He thinks he likes this, though. He likes that Dick's trusted him with this.
"Well?" says Tim, and he turns a little, showing off the suit. "How's it look?"
Dick hums, thoughtful; he circles around behind Tim to do another full 360, after Tim's come to a stop. "Hmm. Pretty convincing, baby bird." Then he grins, sudden and bright and playful. "It's not all looks, though. You've got to be prepared!"
"Right," says Tim, instantly all business. "I followed up on that jewelry robbery case you're on in the Financial District, and I know you've narrowed the suspects down for the murder in the university swimming pool."
"Not that," says Dick. "I know you can do that."
Tim falters, slightly. For an instant, something very like anxiety squeezes at his chest.
Of course there's something Dick thinks he doesn't know how to pull off. Nightwing is his; he's built it from the ground up. Handing it over to Tim, with all his shortcomings, must be the hardest thing he's ever done.
"What is it, then?" says Tim. "Whatever it is, just say the word. I'll do my homework."
Dick's grin goes wide and playful. It looks out of place, there beneath Batman's cowl. "Let's hear your best pun."
"The wisecracks are part of the role, Timmy. Gotta make with the quips."
He's still laughing when Tim whaps him with the floppy cloth of one blue-fingered glove and turns to go snag some wingdings out of storage to practice with.
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