title: Incidentals: Paint Your Face
fandom: DC Comics
characters/pairings: Dick/Tim, Babs, Angel
rating: Teen
warnings: suggestive sexyness
summary: Tim wants to go someplace special, but Dick insists on the dress code.
notes: just to make it all official-like, incidentals is deviating from current comics canon completely. in fact, in the beginning, it was a hodgepodge of different continuities, all to suit my purposes. it doesn't suit my purposes at all to follow current canon, so let it be known that anything that happened in comics roughly post-Chuck Dixon on NW has not happened here - which is not to say that everything that happened before that demarcation point has happened here, natch, but still. ^_~
thanks go to my loving mistress rithy, for planting the seeds for fic. also, dedicated to genX, who is just the super-niftyest. ^_^ ...said dedication was written when i first started this fic... April 25, 2003. *dies laughing* it still holds, natch, but man, have i been dragging my feet on this, meep. in fact, i started this fic because rithy wanted dickie in makeup, and because noel had sent me cds of gravitation and weiss kreuz gluhen. both series are now out, complete, on dvd. le suck.

There was only one place to look for Dick. He had hidden a small training salle in Dr. Fledermaus' apartment, and he always spent the mornings of his days off honing his skills there. Tim could have knocked on the door, but it might have drawn suspicion from Dick's fellow residents. After all, no one had ever seen Dr. Fledermaus, so having him answer the door for a visitor would have seemed very odd.

Anyway, it had been a long time since Tim had indulged in any light B & E.

He tried to be as quiet as he could, and enter undetected, but the way that Dick moved so that he was facing the windows gave away his failure. He didn't mind. It was only to be expected, given that fact that Dick was one of the best in his field, and Tim had been out of the game for a while now.

Breaking your back bending over books was no way to stay in step with the World's Finest.

Tim sat in the window and watched Dick move. He could feel his skin tingling with pleasure at the mere sight of it; he had to fight to keep from laughing out loud. Dick Grayson had a perfect body, not just in form but in function as well. Dick moved from one form to the next, a kata that Tim vaguely remembered Bruce trying to teach him. It required strength and balance. Even Bruce struggled with it from time to time, but Dick moved through the forms with a fluidity to his movements that made Tim's heart pound in his chest.

Dick froze and held a position, his leg up in the air, his toes pointed, his arms held over his chest in a defensive posture.

Tim moved away from the window, his actions predatory.

He stalked around Dick's still form, admiring the beauty of his strength. If he had tried, he wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to put his hands on Dick's leg, sliding them up the inside of his thigh. The black silk under his hand hid none of the power of the muscles underneath.

Tim sighed deeply, and stepped closer to Dick. "I want something from you."

Dick smiled. "I gather."

Tim slide his hand all the way between Dick's legs, slipping behind Dick so that he could press his chest against Dick's back. He put his lips against the back of Dick's neck, running his other hand over the bare skin of Dick's stomach. "Something else, too."

Dick groaned, leaning back against Tim. He arched his neck back and let Tim put his hand into the front of his pants. Tim was dually assaulting him, and Dick trembled from the force of it. "I hope you aren't expecting me to maintain this form..."

"You'd better," Tim threatened, kissing Dick's neck sloppily, "else you'll fall on top of me, and I won't be able to get what I want."

Dick groaned, shaking on his foot, the leg in the air quivering, his toes clenching. "Oh, Tim, then you'd better go fast..."

Tim chuckled, and slowed his motions. "I'll go at my own pace, thank you very much."

Dick groaned, and lowered his arms and leg a little. "Tim, please..."

"Hm," Tim sighed, rubbing his thumb over the top of Dick's erection. "I want to go to Gravitation."

Dick stumbled a little, leaning back on Tim to maintain his balance. "What... What did you say?"

Tim stroked Dick, running his thumb up and down the vein on the bottom. "I. Want. To. Go. To. Gravitation."

Dick quivered. "Gravitation?"

Tim pulled hard on Dick's erection, rubbing circles through the silk around Dick's anus, probing gently. "There's a big drag show there this weekend, and I want to go see all the queens. It's the first break I've had since school began, and midterms wiped me out. Please?"

Dick came with a whimpering scream, and then promptly lost his balance. Tim pushed Dick off of him, laughing as they wrangled with each other. Dick flipped over, pinning Tim down. His eyes sparkled as he apologetically grinned. "It's gravitation?"

Tim laughed harder, and poked Dick in the ribs. "So, you'll take me?"

Dick groaned, and rolled onto his side, pushing Tim away enough so that they could see each other as they talked, but still touch. "Tim, why do you want to go there? Do you know what's it's like?"

"No," Tim replied patiently, "that's why I want to go. Because I've never been to a drag show before. And this one is supposed to be the best!"

Dick raised an eyebrow. With a wry grin he asked, "And how do you know it's the best?"

Tim blushed. "Er, I looked it up on the net... But that's not important! It looks awesome! Have you ever been there?"

"Yes," Dick sighed. "About fifty years ago."

Rolling his eyes, Tim laughed. "Oh, yeah, you're so ancient and all... Did they even have drag shows back in the Stone Age?"

Dick poked Tim in the ribs, trying to wedge his fingers in just the right spot to tickle him. "Actually, drag shows didn't really get going until the Victorian Era. It was a sad, lonely time before that."

Tim laughed, keeping his breathing even to prevent giggles. "C'mon. It'll be fun! We can laugh at all the really weird looking freaks. It'll be great. Then, we can go back to my place and have lots of sex."

"Why can't we just skip to the end? I like the end part." Dick ran his fingers up and down Tim's flank, using his best seductive voice.

Tim shuddered, throwing a leg over Dick's hip to pull himself closer to his lover. "I want both."

Dick sighed. "You are being a brat. I'm not a kid anymore, Tim. Going out to a club... I would be the sad old guy still trying to party like the kids."

Laughing, Tim rolled them over so that he was on top of Dick. "You won't be the sad old guy, Dick. You'll be the pervy old guy with the sweet young thang. Please?"

Then Tim did something with his tongue that Dick found hard to argue with, and therefore chose not to.

Certain forces of nature could not be denied.





Babs rolled past the bedroom on her way to the job. Inside, her best friend - male - was at her vanity mirror, putting on makeup while their daughter watched with rapt attention. She rolled her eyes and sighed, and headed off to get some work done.

Angel came toddling in a few minutes later, dragging her stuffed bat as always. "Momma?"

She tapped in a few auto sequences, and turned to her daughter. "Yes, honey?"

Angel grinned widely. "Daddy's pretty."

Babs laughed, because what else could she do? "Yes, honey, he is."

Angel climbed into her mother's lap. "He put stuff on his face to make him prettier."

Nodding distractedly, she aligned a military satellite for Green Lantern while also transferring funds for Black Canary to re-equip herself in Prague. "Well, he's going out tonight with Uncle Timmy, so he wants to look his best."

Angel poked at Babs' face with her sticky fingers. "Maybe Daddy will show you what stuff he used, Mommy."

Babs narrowed her eyes. "It's bedtime, sweetie. Do Mommy a favor and brush your teeth and get into your pjs, ok?"

Angel hopped off of Babs' lap, and grinned. "I'll have Daddy put me to bed, Mommy, so just save the world a lot."

It took Babs a moment to get back into it, but soon, she was coordinating and hacking like always, her fingers flying over the keys. She had turned on the monitor to Angel's room, so she heard Dick telling Angel three bedtime stories, all from his time as Robin, because Angel never let him read from a book to her, and then he sang to her until she fell asleep.

Dick was just a horrible singer. Just... awful. It was so touching. If she weren't so busy, it would have brought a tear to her eye.

It was an hour later that Dick came in to say goodbye.

He was wearing lipstick. Eye shadow, and eyeliner. Mascara. Rouge. He had painted on a beauty mark under his eye. His hair was slicked back stylishly with gel. He had on bloody fishnets and heels.

She rolled her eyes. "I hate it when you are more feminine than I am."

He came up to kiss her on the cheek, most likely leaving behind a mark. "What about when Bruce is more feminine? That's worse, right?"

She elbowed him hard enough in the gut to double him over. "You're actually going out in public dressed like that? Your ass is hanging out of those 'shorts,' you know."

"Well, after so many years as Robin..." Dick shrugged. "You ok? Anything else I can do for you?"

She paused, just looking at him.

"Ah, no, ok," he kissed her cheek. "Have a good night!"

She watched him walk off, grinning. "Not as good as yours, I guess."

He winked at her over his shoulder right before he disappeared from sight.





Tim hopped into his shoe, calling out, "I'll be right there!" He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this excited. Probably when Dick had first called him to ask him out. It was just exciting to be doing something really gay that didn't involve latex.

He opened the door, and promptly lost the ability to speak.

Dick was wearing black vinyl hot pants, fishnets, heels, a red transparent shirt that showed off the stick-on gems he had put around his belly button. Dick's face was done up like something Tim was afraid to say lest he get himself into more trouble than he could handle.

Simultaneously, the said, "What the hell are you wearing?!"

Tim gaped, and looked down at himself. "Me?! Are you nuts!? Look at you!"

"Tim!" Dick pushed his way inside, sighing. "You said you wanted to go to Gravitation. Gravitation. It's not like an ordinary gay bar, you know. They'll let you in if you look like that, but... C'mon, why would you want to stick out like that?"

"Dick!" Tim shook his head, hoping to chase away the bad dream. "This is my best outfit!"

Dick rolled his eyes. "It's chinos, for god's sake, Tim. C'mon, let's see what we can do."

Tim sat on his bed, clutching the edge, glaring at Dick who was going through his closet making comments like "So eighties!" or "I wouldn't even give this to Goodwill." Eventually, Dick settled on a pair of black jeans (which he insisted on tearing a hole right under the right back pocket), and a white shirt that he made Tim leave unbuttoned. He wet down Tim's hair, and kissed him hard enough to leave some color on his lips, and then sighed and said, "It will have to do."

Tim was reconsidering this night out, very much.





Dick waited patiently. Somewhat. Well. Not patiently at all, really. Why in the world would Tim want to go to a pet store at this hour, and why the hell was there one open? Why did he drag Dick out of the club after only a few hours?

He tapped his heel against the cement. He went through a phase where he went out to clubs all the time, just after he had left the Manor. It was exhilarating, exciting. He was always wanted, wanted to for his flesh, for his skin. He liked that, most of the time. He liked being physical, liked being free. But when he was in a relationship, he had no need of it. When he was with someone, he just liked to be with that person, preferably alone.

Still, it had been fun tonight, dressing up like old times, getting out. The drag show was as good as he remembered, and the drinks flowed well. He was remembered, too, by a few people, including an unfortunate encounter with an ex, of sorts. One-night stands should not have good memories, even if they did spill over to two or three or ten nights. But they had been having fun, Dick thought. Then Tim had dragged him out, fire in his eyes.

Dick sighed. He's been talking to Lily, a 6' 3'' drag queen with a good memory. Lily was a flirt, and a tease. Dick could remember some good times, long ago. It was like an odd reunion. Tim must not have been having fun, but then, it had been his idea to begin with, so it wasn't Dick's fault. Dick wasn't at all sure that Tim was gay, but it was an odd thing to say to one's lover. Maybe Tim was mostly straight, and had just ended up with a guy. At least, straight in taste. After all, look at how he dressed... not that Dick was normally a queen or anything, but still, even if he mostly dressed for working out, he still knew the difference between darks and permanent press in the laundry room.

Tim came out, looking much more serene than when he walked in, carrying just a small bag. Dick sighed, and pushed away from the wall. "Finally! What were you doing in there, anyway? You don't have a pet."

"I have one," Tim stated calmly, pulling out his purchase, ripping the tags off. He slipped the thick, rhinestone-studded black collar around Dick's neck, adjusting it for comfort. "And I think it's time to start leash training."

Dick's eyes widened until he really couldn't widen them further. "Wha... What do you think you are doing, Timmy?"

Tim smirked, and snapped a leash onto the collar. "You're a smart boy, Dickie. You can figure it out."

A cold thrill shivered down Dick's spine. "Tim. We're still in public."

"Exactly," Tim declared, his eyes burning. "That's just what I want. I want everyone to know. You. Are. Mine. Mine. And no matter how hot you look, no one else can touch your round little ass, or kiss you, or anything." He tugged on the leash. "You are mine."

Dick reached out to put his hands on Tim's arms, holding on as if to keep himself standing. It was like the whole world just dropped away. "My god, you just keep surprising me, don't you? Had no idea you could be so..." He leaned in to kiss Tim, but Tim started to walk away, pulling viciously on the leash. "Tim!"

"Keep up," Tim replied coldly.

"Tim!!" Dick was practically running, but it was hard in his heels. "Wait up, what's the hurry?"

"Hurry?" Tim looked over his shoulder at his bound lover. "I'm taking you home, putting you face down on the bed, chaining you down, and fucking that paint off of your face. Don't you want to get started?"

"I think I've already gotten started," Dick muttered, newly inspired to keep up.








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