Texts From Gotham
A Word: Ibid.
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(986): He told me I was "too flexible." Excuse me?
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"How can that even be a thing? Too flexible is like having too much," Dick pauses clearly stumped and looks around the kitchen before finding inspiration, "bacon! Like having too much bacon!"
Tim doesn't really get it because bacon is a heart attack in conveniently sized meat form. Especially the way most people eat it. Cass, thankfully, pulls up the slack for him by intoning, "There can never be too much bacon."
"Exactly! He'll never get himself laid with that kind of attitude," Dick looks and sounds vindicated as he sits back on his stool and crosses his arms over his chest. He's very pleased with the way this conversation has gone and Tim hates to end it-
Well, that's a lie Tim doesn't hate to end it.
"But you weren't even interested in him," Tim points out because truth and logic demand to be acknowledged in his life. "You were pumping him for information about the drugs. Not looking to hook up."
"At the time, no, and now I'll know who to avoid later too," Dick responds and Cass giggles at the exaggerated eyebrow wriggle he does as he leers at Tim.
"Right," Tim sighs and let's the matter go. Dick's not half the manwhore he likes people to think he is. Sure, he likes sex and is very capable of keeping multiple casual relationships going, but most of the rumors of who he's slept with are pretty exaggerated. "Whatever you say Dick."
"Damn right," Dick lets the leer go and grins. Tim still doesn't know why Dick goes along with the assumptions about him and Dick's unlikely to share the reasons on his own. He just shakes his head and let's Dick's words fill the kitchen as Alfred adds more bacon to the pan he has on the stove.
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