[fic] 'untitled Dick/Tim'
Dec. 3rd, 2005 03:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
niqSo, a long time ago, I chat-porned some Dick/Tim. I started ficifying it, but never finished. It's been utterly, totally *completely* jossed as this was, like, over a year ago. I'm posting what I did manage to ficify, though, because I'm still absurdly fond of it. YMMV.
No one at Gotham University particularly notices Tim Drake. Everyone knows him, of course, he's a friend of Bernard's, and Bernard is the life of the campus, same as always. But no one really notices Drake.
He's nothing special, they think, a bit of brains in a pretty package, nothing more, and dismiss him. He's wallpaper, Tim thinks. Even to his father. A background, something to fill the corner of your vision, interchangeable with any other.
It's a bitter thought, perhaps, but Tim has had time enough to become bitter with Jack Drake.
It hadn't been hard, at first, not being Robin any more. He'd always said he didn't want to be in the business forever. But...
It hadn't been the end of the mindfucks. It'd just been a change in who gave them. And Jack wasn't even good at it--he went with brute force where finesse would have done better.
Tim had gone back to thinking of his father as Jack sometime after he'd put the suit back on. Just on a rooftop, not to go patrolling, just to remember what it felt like.
He hadn't ever gone back to patrolling, of course. He couldn't. Jack had too much on him, too much to keep his son in line, and too much reason to do so . Jack needed a well-behaved son, needed to feel he was a father that could keep his child in line.
Of course, he kept those thoughts, the psychological profile on Jack Drake, locked away, chained, and buried. It wasn't wise to have thoughts like that in mind while dealing with the man--Jack relied on brute force to manipulate people but he wasn't entirely dense to the complexities of the mind.
So he'd played the role, he'd given Jack Drake his fix. He resented it, but it allowed him certain freedoms. He'd buckled down and been Tim Drake, Boy Student for the next two years. In return, he'd been permitted to live in the dorms on campus.
On holidays, if he's careful, he can slip away. He shows up at the parties, makes sure he's noticed and relegated to the status of visual wallpaper, just another student at another party, and then slips off-campus.
It's been too long since he's seen Dick. They haven't stayed in touch. They'd hashed things out after everything had died down for awhile, but despite having twelve different ways of contacting each other, they rarely speak.
It just doesn't feel right to be Tim Drake around Dick.
Of course, he's kept a surveillance of Dick's life; Catalina won't happen again, but surveillance doesn't count as staying in touch, even if it passes for it in their family. Dick deserves better.
Tim roars down the freeway to Bludhaven, his hair whipping out of the elastic holding it back. The long hair had been one of the few open rebellions against Jack Drake he'd allowed himself. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him sane. Ish.
He could call ahead, but Dick's expression is worth it. He breaks into a wide grin, one of the infectious ones that Tim remembered even as other memories had faded.
They get delivery chinese and watch a movie on TV--nothing special, one more forgettable entry in the summer action genre. The red wine doesn't really go with chinese food, but it was all Dick had in the house.
Tim doesn't really know how they end up tangled together on the couch, but he's pretty sure the wine has something to do with it and with the way Dick's combing through his hair.
No one at Gotham University particularly notices Tim Drake. Everyone knows him, of course, he's a friend of Bernard's, and Bernard is the life of the campus, same as always. But no one really notices Drake.
He's nothing special, they think, a bit of brains in a pretty package, nothing more, and dismiss him. He's wallpaper, Tim thinks. Even to his father. A background, something to fill the corner of your vision, interchangeable with any other.
It's a bitter thought, perhaps, but Tim has had time enough to become bitter with Jack Drake.
It hadn't been hard, at first, not being Robin any more. He'd always said he didn't want to be in the business forever. But...
It hadn't been the end of the mindfucks. It'd just been a change in who gave them. And Jack wasn't even good at it--he went with brute force where finesse would have done better.
Tim had gone back to thinking of his father as Jack sometime after he'd put the suit back on. Just on a rooftop, not to go patrolling, just to remember what it felt like.
He hadn't ever gone back to patrolling, of course. He couldn't. Jack had too much on him, too much to keep his son in line, and too much reason to do so . Jack needed a well-behaved son, needed to feel he was a father that could keep his child in line.
Of course, he kept those thoughts, the psychological profile on Jack Drake, locked away, chained, and buried. It wasn't wise to have thoughts like that in mind while dealing with the man--Jack relied on brute force to manipulate people but he wasn't entirely dense to the complexities of the mind.
So he'd played the role, he'd given Jack Drake his fix. He resented it, but it allowed him certain freedoms. He'd buckled down and been Tim Drake, Boy Student for the next two years. In return, he'd been permitted to live in the dorms on campus.
On holidays, if he's careful, he can slip away. He shows up at the parties, makes sure he's noticed and relegated to the status of visual wallpaper, just another student at another party, and then slips off-campus.
It's been too long since he's seen Dick. They haven't stayed in touch. They'd hashed things out after everything had died down for awhile, but despite having twelve different ways of contacting each other, they rarely speak.
It just doesn't feel right to be Tim Drake around Dick.
Of course, he's kept a surveillance of Dick's life; Catalina won't happen again, but surveillance doesn't count as staying in touch, even if it passes for it in their family. Dick deserves better.
Tim roars down the freeway to Bludhaven, his hair whipping out of the elastic holding it back. The long hair had been one of the few open rebellions against Jack Drake he'd allowed himself. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him sane. Ish.
He could call ahead, but Dick's expression is worth it. He breaks into a wide grin, one of the infectious ones that Tim remembered even as other memories had faded.
They get delivery chinese and watch a movie on TV--nothing special, one more forgettable entry in the summer action genre. The red wine doesn't really go with chinese food, but it was all Dick had in the house.
Tim doesn't really know how they end up tangled together on the couch, but he's pretty sure the wine has something to do with it and with the way Dick's combing through his hair.