[dc] grab yourself an alibi
"It's okay. My brother got some hacker kid from the suburbs. This punk broke the CitiBank computers twice, he says."
Dick raises his eyebrows, sits back and picks the label off of his beer. "So how do you find yourself a hacker?"
"Kid came asking. Saw Artie in that internet cafe and gave him a business card. Can you believe that?"
"Cute." Dick only knows two kinds of kids who'd do something like that.
"Yeah. Sweet face and all."
One kind of kid.
There's a noise on the stairs like four, possibly five people and Dick tips back the rest of his beer, not wanting to have anything in his hands to distract him because the thought of the piece in his boot is distracting enough. Gino comes through the swing doors with the girl from the bar in tow, the one with the red hair, shocking red and streaked with blond, and she's the trashiest kind of mobster girl he's yet had the pleasure of making acquaintance with, but she has, like Tony says, a real sweet face. Caprice.
Then there's Donny, and he's already puffing on a Cuban. Only half-ten, and it makes Dick nervous, because--he's only known this guy, what, a week, but his routine is to crack the cigars at midnight, not before, and a break in routine is something new or different, so. Alert. He's saying something to Caprice, tucking a couple of bills in the tanktop of her outfit, and she frowns but then she nods and Dick pushes his chair a bit further back in to the shadows without looking like he's hiding, nods to Gino, nods to Donny, and looks out on the mezzanine like he's real interested in the DJ and has an opinion on the 200 bpm techno.
Then there's Tim, and Dick had almost been expecting it, but his heart still leaps into his throat and somersaults.
"Crutches, you don't have to read up on no Hacking for Dummies anymore," Gino says. "I found us someone to take care of our information techonology needs here." He winks at Dick and jerks his head at Tim, and Tim takes his thumbnail out of his mouth where he was chewing it and looks around, flashes an eyebrow, which is, fuck, pierced, at everyone, and settles on Caprice.
"This is Al," Donny says, pulling out a chair for Tim. "He's going to help us."
Everyone else is staring so Dick stares too. Tim's got his hair all spiked up, and earrings, and he's slashed up the Ramones t-shirt that Dick had lent him last fall, and it's hard to tell under the lights but maybe he's wearing makeup. Dick can't even begin to process it beyond punk and Tim and what the fucking fuck does he think he's--
"Sit down, kid," says Gino, and Tim does, and Gino puts a gun to Tim's temple.
Dick holds his breath when Tim doesn't react (react, he wants to scream, you're a kid, no-one is that cool) but Tim says slowly: "That's a Glock, right, there's a triple click in the firing chamber," and Gino snorts and looks over at DIck for what, commentary?
"You need to get laid, kid," Dick says, because that's what Crutches would say, and it makes Tim look around again. Okay.
"Smarty here is going to get us in to the municipal mainframe, aren't you?" Gino pushes the muzzle of the gun enough to tilt Tim's head to the side, and Tim slants his eyes over to Dick, and, swear to god, the look is some kind of reassurance. Jesus.
Tim turns, looks up at Gino. Gino's gun. "Where's the computer?"
Gino laughs, a short bark, and tucks the gun away. Donny pulls out a briefcase from under the table and clicks it open, slides over a laptop. Gino bends over Tim's shoulder, opens the computer and turns it on, and Caprice pops some bubblegum and pushes it in the ashtry with one long bright pink nail, and slides under the table between Tim's thighs.
**
Dick watches Tim blink, faster than normal, watches his shoulders move and his teeth dig in to his lower lip, but that's it, that's all the outward sign he's giving, concentration and arousal both. Dick shifts forward, and now he can see Caprice's head in Tim's lap, and she's pushing his knees far apart, not going slow or leisurely, swallowing Tim's dick in long strokes and Dick realises Tim's blinks are in time with the upstroke.
::::
Yeah. I nicked that last bit from Swordfish, and Robbie supplied the title. I have no shame. It was going to be this unwieldy glammed-up crossover set in Nightwing canon when Dick was doing the undercover mobster gig. Tim was, um, helping, and you should picture Joseph Gordon Levitt in that scene above. It was also to feature Dick's new friend and nightclub owner Rusty Ryan, and some terrible mistaken-identity thing with Draco Malfoy.
Six foot, blond and pretty--Dick had actually said that, pretty, and Tim had wondered what the frame of reference was for Dick's version of pretty until they were there and classifying the clientele on the fly, so to speak.
There was also Zatanna (who was like, Draco's third cousin), and Blaise (who was eerily Robin-ish), and really, it was just an excuse to be gratuitous.
"--ever do fucked-up shit like that again," Dick is muttering, but he has Tim's fly open. Tim's pulse is still powered by adrenaline from hacking the systems, and his cock is still hard and he aches but that's nothing compared to Dick sliding to his knees in front of him and grinning.
"Come. On." Tim tugs Dick's hair.
"Next time you want a blowjob in a dirty bathroom I can just move my laundry out--" and then Dick has his mouth full, and Tim smacks his head back on the wall.
::::