#dicktimweek25

Tim shows up five minutes earlier than they agreed, letting himself in through the front door. Dick sees him pause for a moment, eyes darting around warily, anticipation clear in the lines of his body.

The trap he’s waiting for never comes. As fun as their little game is, Dick had disabled most of them. He’d kept up his usual security, of course, but that was all. He feels a little bad about it when Tim’s brow furrows. Not too bad about it, though, because the expression is adorable.

Before Tim can comment, Dick swoops in to greet him. “Hey there, baby bird.” His voice is a touch softer than usual.

Used to be he had to tilt Tim’s face up on his own. Now, though, his baby alpha knows exactly what Dick wants. He tilts his head back, face already flushing pink. Dick doesn't keep him waiting. He rubs noses with him first, lingering a little longer than is strictly necessary for a platonic scenting, before rubbing their cheeks together—first one side, than the other. At the same time, he smooths his wrists down the sides of Tim’s neck and over his shoulders.

It’s not enough to smother Tim’s scent—though it does let Dick breathe him in. The milky scent of puphood is nearly drowned out by Tim’s newly presented alpha scent; something warm and nutty, with a hint of alpha musk beneath.

It makes Dick’s mouth water.

It’s tempting to chase the scent to the source; to coax more of it out, and wrap himself in it until it’s impossible to tell where one scent ends and the other begins. Dick makes himself pull away instead. His belly cramps as if in protest, but he ignores it.

By now, Tim should have gotten a lungful of Dick’s own scent and the tinge of preheat in it—not enough to be noticeable, not yet, but enough for an alpha’s own instincts to start responding.

After a scenting, Tim usually ducks away, adorably pink-cheeked as he excused himself to put away his things, or whatever other task he makes up for himself.

Not today.

Today, Tim’s lashes flutter. He looks… almost dazed, the blue of his eyes hazy. His blush darkens. He steps forward, into Dick’s space, putting them so close they’re almost touching. Dick can feel the warmth radiating off of Tim. He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He thinks Tim watches it, thinks his gaze lingers on his lips, but he can’t be sure.

It might just be a desperate, foolish hope.

Tim scents him, dragging his wrists slowly over Dick’s cheeks, hovering them over his neck, and then smoothing them down his shoulders. He does it twice; thorough and deliberate in the way he lingers, making sure that Dick is coated in his scent. It’s nearly enough to drown out Dick’s omega scent. Definitely enough to cover up the scent of preheat.

It feels wonderfully possessive, like Tim wants to leave no room for doubt as to who Dick belongs to.

More wishful thinking.

Most likely it’s the mark of an inexperienced alpha. Tim is a pup still. He’s had, what, two ruts? He’s still far more likely to be scented than to do any scenting of his own.

Still… Dick clings to the fantasy.

If all goes well, after all, it might just become reality.

Tim steps back finally. His face is more red than pink now—and whatever boldness had carried him forward leaves him. “I’m thirsty. Hope you went shopping this week,”” he says, turning and walking quickly toward the kitchen. It’s just shy of a run, and Dick has to work to keep his mouth from twitching.

Tim’s bags stay where they are, dropped haphazardly by the front door.

Dick doesn’t bother moving them, instead trailing a few paces behind Tim. “A guy forgets to go grocery shopping one time and no one ever lets him forget it…”

Tim throws him a capital-L Look over his shoulder. It’s ruined slightly by the blush still on his face. “It wasn’t just one time and you know it,” he scolds. Baby alpha or no, he really does have the chastising tone down. Bruce gives him plenty of practice, Dick thinks, suppressing a smile.

“I’m a busy guy.”

Tim sighs, put-upon, and opens Dick’s fridge. He scrutinizes it a lot longer than it should take to get out a bottle of water, and doesn’t even bother to open it before he starts rummaging through Dick’s cabinets.

Dick leans against the doorway to the kitchen, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

He knows exactly where this is going.

Sure enough—

“We need to go shopping,” Tim announces.

“I just went,” Dick says, mostly because he knows Tim expects it of him. Inwardly, he purrs in satisfaction. Tim is reacting just as Dick had hoped he would.

“Well, we need to go again. Go put your shoes on.”

Dick’s mouth twitches. “You’re so bossy, baby bird.”

“Dick.”

He thinks about dragging his feet a little longer, testing the boundaries of Tim’s patience. Trying to cajole him into waiting and relaxing a little. But… he’s curious. Besides—the sooner they go and come home the better. It won’t be long before Dick will be reluctant to leave his den let alone his apartment, and on top of that… He’s a tactile person already. During a heat, all he wants to do is wrap himself around the closest pack member and stay there. He can already feel the urge to bundle Tim off into his nest.

Still—he can’t help dragging his feet a little, amused at the way Tim huffs at him before finally, finally, he allows Tim to drag him out the door.