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[RL, Dick & Tim] Reaching For a Breath

So. He was a girl. He was a she and his - her - anatomy was not the anatomy she'd been born with. Also, Tim had never been so damn confused by pronouns. The air in his room was cranked up, because the huge sweatpants and shirt did not make for easy living in humid weather. In any case, Tim the Girl Wonder (she hoped Stephanie never, ever found out about this) was stretched across her bed, staring at the ceiling and plotting Loki's demise.

How had this happened again? Note to self: never mock Bruce. That was, apparently, her downfall. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Tim rolled over onto her side, shifting uncomfortable. Every time she walked around, her pants threatened to fall. Maybe she should've told Dick to bring a belt, damn.

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Honestly, his first reaction to learning Tim was no longer a card carrying member of the Y chromosome party, Dick could only blink. It made no sense, and he was surely not even going to try and make it make sense. Tim was a chick. Tim was a pretty chick, and Dick was currently opening Tim's door unannounced, like usual.

Well, he used his foot to turn the door handle, and pushed the door open that way because he had pizza and sodas in hand. "I sure as hell hope you're decent," he said as he kicked the door shut behind him.

"No, actually, I found bras and thongs in my closet and just thought I'd laze around in them." Pushing herself up to sit cross legged on the bed, Tim frowned vaguely in Dick's direction, drowning in sweats. Scooting over to make room on the bed - tugging up her pants on the way, Tim just rolled her eyes. "Your feet better be clean, by the way."

And then the pizza smell hit, and dear God, she loved artichoke hearts and onions and Canadian bacon on pie. Holding out both hands, she just gestured for the food, smiling lopsidedly. "Thanks, by the way."

"Thought you would, you seem the type," he quipped with a wicked grin. Scampering over to his... her bed, Dick sat down, feet drawn up and legs crossing into a lotus position easily. Putting the cans of soda between them, he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I just got done kicking the tar out of Clayface, oops." Sarcasm? Quite a bit of it.

At her gesture, he laughed quietly. "Oh, you want this pizza do you? No one ever taught you manners I see." He hands it over anyway and is still smiling. "It's the least I could do. I don't want you to starve up here."

"Jerk. You're cleaning the doorknob." Rolling her eyes, Tim ran a hand through her ridiculously long hair. Even when he'd let his hair get long, it had never been this crazy. He was tempted to grab a pair of scissors ans just hack at it...but he might secretly like how it looked.

"Yeah, says the gypsy." Smiling back at him, she settled the box on her lap and opened it to the side, so Dick could see the most amazing pizza ever made. "Doesn't that smell amazing? How can you not want to try a piece? I'll pick off the onions for you."

"Nope. I brought you pizza, I don't have to do anything else now. Ever." He's in a good mood, which is a really drastic change from a few days ago. Watching Tim play with her hair just sort of made Dick go quiet for a moment, and then he was smirking. Tim did look really nice, though Tim was probably bound to look twelve no matter what gender because really. She looked like jailbait. Really pretty jailbait.

And ohlook. Dick's just going to open his own pizza, just some cheese and mushrooms. Normal pizza. "Hey, if I didn't know better I'd call you a racist for that remark," gypsy, pft. He's only part Romani, thanks. Still makes him a full gypsy but whatever. "And I will not touch that tainted pizza, sorry. Smells like evil."

"Feeding me does not get you out of everything, dork." One day, Tim will no longer look twelve. She was on her way to looking sixteen, in fact, but this is a giant step backwards. Her shoulders aren't even remotely broad anymore. Whine, whine, bitch, whine.

"Smells like amazing, you mean. I'm not racist, but apparently I'm a Gadjo. Did I get that right?" Ripping off a piece of pizza from his pie, Tim tilted her head to the side to keep her hair out of the way and took a bite of awesome tasting goodness. Yesss, this made coping so much better. She shrugged, and swallowed. "Your loss, man."

"Totally does. Plus I'm older, and yes I am playing that card now, so shut it Chick Wonder." He said and just started mowing into his pizza. God damn, he was going to have to work this off later, but for now he was just going to pretend to be normal and enjoy really greasy foods.

Though he was trying to enjoy it, and almost ended up choking as he fought to swallow when Tim spouted off that remark about being a gadjo. Cough hack sputter. "Don't use that word, Tim. We use that in a very nasty way." Ahh breathing. Good.

Tim opened her mouth to spout something off, but then came the Chick Wonder jibe, and she shut right the fuck up. Goddamn. Tim just occupied himself with her comfort food. What an ass and when was this going to be fixed?

Blinking up when Dick started choking, she tilted her head to the side, hoping the Heimlich wouldn't be required. "What? I can say fuck, but not gadjo? C'mon, Dick. Just a word. Gypsy." She smiled, starting in on the crust in her hand.

He noticed that she went quiet, but didn't really know how to fix it seeing as he couldn't take back the Chick Wonder comment. Dick knew it had to be that, because honestly, Tim wouldn't be offended by Dick calling himself older. Trufax, yo.

"It's a really offensive insult, Tim. Honestly, just... whatever. Call yourself something stupid if you want to." He shrugged, kind of put off by it and just stuffed his face to avoid saying anything else to Tim.

They're just awesome at making eachother uncomfortable lately. "Bring and napkins?" She asked instead of addressing any of the topics, brushing her hands off over her box. Shaking some hair out of her eyes - these bangs were fucking annoying - Tim glanced between her pizza and Dick's put off face.

"I was just joking, you know. Won't use it, if it bugs you."

... "Napkins? Shit, I'll go grab some." He said offering to flee. Well, he'd come back but a momentary reprieve from the tension would be good for the both of them.

"It's just. If you started calling someone a wet-back or something equally as derogatory." He put down his pizza box and looked at her. Shrugging again he forced a little smile.

"All right, I'm sorry." Tim shrugged, looking down. And when she glanced back up, it was to return the smile, almost as forced as his. "Won't happen again, okay?"

She lifted a saucey finger to her mouth to clean. "Go get napkins before I get this in my hair."

"Don't be sorry, you were insulting yourself, Tim." The smile falls into a vaguely concerned line, but Dick smiles when Tim licks her finger.

"Maybe I want to see you get sauce in your hair." He said whilst standing up, abandoning his pizza and wiping his own saucey, greasy fingers on the butt of his jeans. "But I'll get you napkins anyway, be right back." With a brief (unforced) smile, Dick wandered off to get Tim some napkins.

Tim shrugged lightly, cleaning her fingers. And definitely grimacing at how Dick cleaned his. "Change your pants, too, you're not sitting back down here with grease on your butt."

"Blah, blah, blah," he mocked as he left, running off to get napkins, and to purposefully not change his pants. When he gets back up to Tim's room, he all but chucks them at her playfully and teasingly moves as if to sit on her bed...

Making a surprised noise when he returned and threw the napkins, Tim caught one and started wiping her hands. And was glad she'd set aside her pizza so she could lean forward and grab Dick's arm, fingers hooking in his belt loops. "You didn't change, don't you dare sit in those!"

"I must outweigh you by a good fifty pounds right now, Tim. I don't think you could really stop me..." He was amused. So. Freaking. Amused that she was trying to physically restrain him. Wriggling just a little, as to not hurt her fingers, Dick moved just a little bit closer to putting his butt on the bed.

"Oh please, with our years of training, you aren't going to tell me that size makes a difference, are you? Come - hey!" Tim yanked arm and pants, rising to her knees. Stupid pants were falling, boxers showering. "If my pizza falls, you're a dead man."

"It does make a difference when you haven't even trained in this body, Tim. You're not used to being built like that." Oh, yes, he is so laughing at Tim now, and moves enough to dislodge her hand from his belt loops.

His pants are falling down, yes, because she's pulling that hard. And he feels his boxers slipping too. "Actually, that'd be pretty funny too, and watch that, if you don't want a full moon."

"You're an asshat. It isn't funny at all, jerk." She had to reach down to yank her own sweats up, scowling exaggeratedly at him. But he was right, she wasn't used to this build at all. And a fight would probably go badly. God damnit...

"Whatever, you still aren't sitting on my bed with greasy pants."

"It's really freaking funny because it's true." And he's still laughing and attempting to pull up his pants. Geeze, Tim. Looking down at her really amusingly sprawled form, Dick grinned.

"Well, I'm not putting on other pants, and besides, that's probably already dry."

"Then take them off or stand, because I don't care." She yanked one more time at his pants before letting go, sitting back on her heels. Pushing hands out of her eyes, Tim snorted and shook her head at him, arms crossed under her, Jesus, under her breasts.

He made a sharp noise as he grasped at his pants to keep them from dragging down his boxers too. "Fine! Fine, I'll take them off so long as you don't freaking pull them off my ass."

Making another weird noise at Tim, Dick unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them, and kicked them off. "Better now?" He asked as he flopped back onto Tim's bed.

"Yes. This comforter's a pain in the ass to wash." And Tim dropped her eyes to the pizza box again, grabbing a napkin and a piece of pie to distract herself. So Dick was in boxers on her bed. So what? Not like they hadn't gotten dressed around each other before. Right? Right. Yeah.

"Alfred washes your laundry, oh special one," Dick said with a short laugh. Settling back in on the bed, he made sure not to cross his legs under him because he didn't want his boxer hole to open. Reaching for his own pizza, he didn't bother with a napkin and just started devouring it, vaguely oblivious.

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[RL, Dick & Tim] Reaching For a Breath

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