Title: Fluorescent Adolescent
Pairing: Dick/Tim (can be viewed as a fluffy bro fic or slash)
Genre: Humor (Family or Romance)
Notes: I’m a bit of a fashion lover and I can’t help but imagine the batboys in various styles of clothes so I’m feeding my itch! This is also part of my random pic fic project.
Summary: Dick takes Tim shopping. Tim would rather not.
“Do we really need to go in here? I have clothes at home.” Tim sulked standing outside of the clothing store.
“While your cardigan collection is impressive it’s not gonna cut it for tonight Timmy. Come on it’ll be fun!” Dick smiled at the pouting teen beside him.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done jobs where he had to disguise himself to fit in with the crowd in an attempt to gather intel. He could still vividly remember having to cross dress two years back. The dress and wig had been one thing but the bra with the prosthetics… was something else. Dick had tried his best not to laugh and by his best Tim meant he could only give short one word answers without sputtering into laughter. At least with that time Alfred had just made him something, this time however Dick had been adamant that he would take Tim shopping. He had wanted to protest but seeing the genuine excitement in the older mans face made him cave quick.
Upon entering the store they were met with the sound of blaring guitars crashing together over the speakers. It made Tim wince before taking in the store; combat boots, ripped jeans, and studded belts decorated the walls. He looked over to Dick who was also overviewing the store before taking his hand and tugging him through the aisles. In quick time the teen found himself in a dressing room with way too many choices, he wondered what kind of perverse pleasure Dick was getting out of this as he changed over and over and over again.
Tim stood in the dressing room his head against the mirror, “There’s nothing left. I think I tried on the whole store.” he announced to Dick outside.
The handle of the stall jiggled, Tim unlocked it allowing Dick to step in.
“You look good.” his brother said eyeing him up and down. Tim stood there looking miserable in a loose black tank top, distressed black skinny jeans and a belt of fake bullets hanging low on his hips.
“The shirt has holes in it. Why would anyone buy a shirt with holes?” The teen asked bemused.
“It’s in style.”
“It’s counter productive.” Tim retorted turning to the mirror, “And these pants look weird.”
“Look good from where I’m standing.” Dick said from behind.
Tim tried to ignore the blush that crept across his face, “They don’t leave much to the imagination.” he said regaining composure.
“Neither do our other outfits. You’re just used to having a cape to hide in.”
“Why couldn’t you have convinced Jason to help you with this he might’ve actually enjoyed the show.” Tim shook his head.
“And miss out on all this?” he put his hands on Tim’s shoulders and gave them an affectionate squeeze. “That and Jason would’ve probably broken too many faces. Honestly you think him at a punk rock concert isn’t a recipe for complete disaster?”
Tim laughed before catching himself in the mirror. He frowned, “You can see all my scars.” he waved his arms slightly.
“It makes you look tough. And you are.” he added, “We could spike your hair up more like a real hawk throw in some color maybe. You’d look good with red in your hair.”
Tim narrowed his eyes at his brothers reflection.
“Or not. It was just a suggestion.” Dick chuckled. “Maybe you should wear this out of the store - you know, to break it in and everything.
“Just today and then you can go back to being five layers deep in clothes I promise.” Dick smiled hopefully.
Tim sighed, there was that smile that got him into this mess in the first place. He stood no chance, “Just be careful taking the tag off this shirt another tear and I think it might fall apart.”