Tim doesn’t look up when his window slides open, doesn’t look up when he hears the sound of footsteps - deliberate - coming towards him. He does look up when he hears the sound of a familiar voice.
Not quite a whine, but he’s sure the facial expression that goes with that particular tone of voice does more than enough to express one.
“I’m working, Dick.” He’s only in Gotham for a few days, tying up lose ends on a case he’s working.
“Tim.” Dick draws his name out, like he’s five.
“Dick.” Name and insult in one, and Dick can’t even call him on it because, well.
Finally, finally, Tim looks up. Sees Dick with his big blue eyes and sad face holding up DVDs and. “Oh my God.” Tim honestly can’t believe this is his life (only it is, it so is). “Dick. What.” He doesn’t know how the criminal underworld takes him seriously. Dick does. Tim doesn’t know what, but suddenly he feels a twinge of remorse for not caving to Dick’s insanity, and - Oh, hell no.
Dick narrows his eyes at Tim. “Tim.”
Tim sighs, not giving in, no. More like. More like cutting his losses, because this is Dick, and really, that says more than enough. “I can’t believe you.” Tim saves his work and puts the computer in sleep mode. Looks up at Dick who is very carefully not looking smug as hell. “Seriously, Dick.”
Dick gives him a look that’s just this side of sheepish (almost, but not quite because Dick is a dick) and drags him towards the couch. He pops one of the DVDs in and then just. Gloms onto him.
“Dick - “
“Shhh! The movie’s starting.” Dick tightens his hold on Tim and settles down.
Tim sighs, relaxing against him because Dick is Dick and this maybe isn’t the worst way to spend his night.