When Dave is nine, Dirk's computer security program reports visits to various porn sites that Dirk himself doesn't frequent. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who's been on the computer, but it's the third time in two months and that means something. Dirk hasn't wanted to admit it, but time is not on his side. Dave is getting older.

He needs his own room.

First, computer security gets tighter. Then Dirk starts apartment-hunting. The studio they share is no longer adequate. Dave might not know it yet, but he's going to need privacy. The new place has to have at least one bedroom. Two would be better, but Dallas isn't cheap and Dirk isn't the famous DJ he could be if he tried harder. Of necessity, he skirts the line between anonymity and infamy, getting jobs by word of mouth and people's desire for "underground" music. Between his hobby and his smuppet startup, he makes enough to keep them quietly fed and housed – but only so much housing can be bought at one time.

He finds a one-bedroom near the west side of the city, close to the same schools and not too far from where a few of Dave's friends live. He looks it over while Dave's in class, making sure it has everything they need. It's not the best place he's ever seen. The building probably used to be a warehouse, as the rental is more like a big loft with a bedroom attached and a kitchen pasted along the side wall in some attempt at bohemian wall-less-ness. The bathroom is even tinier than the one they're leaving behind, but overall the price is right, that one bedroom is there and he doesn't see any roaches. Plus it's available right now.

It'll have to do.

They start packing that night. Dirk does most of it, getting all their stuff into boxes and answering Dave's questions about where they're going and what things they're taking. The new place has its own refrigerator and stove just like this one, so those stay behind. Everything else goes. He watches Dave take this seriously, folding his own clothes and toys into duffle bags before he goes to the kitchen to help pack up what little food they have in gallon-sized Ziplocs.

It takes an entire Saturday to move everything in, and they celebrate with pizza for dinner.

Dirk made sure to set things up as they went along – part of the reason the move took forever – and the television, DVD player, XBOX, futon and the new bed are all in their proper places when he finally announces it's time for sleep. He pulls their towels and toothbrushes from his backpack and sets them in the bathroom, and Dave stops exploring the fire escape, the extra room that he's been told is his and the new twin bed (which makes a great trampoline) long enough to wash up and change into his pajamas. The routine goes smoothly until Dirk follows Dave into the bedroom and tells Dave again that Dave has his own room now, like a big boy, and that means he'll be sleeping in the nice new bed all by himself.

Dave stares, stuffed horse under one arm. He's trying to imitate Dirk's cool look, but he's still a little too young. His mouth is quivering. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"Out front on the futon. I'll be right down the hall."

"Why can't I sleep there?"

"Don't you want to sleep here? It's all for you."

"No. I always sleep on the futon. I want to sleep there."

Dirk doesn't want to give up sleeping with Dave any more than Dave does; it's comforting to hold Dave close and fall asleep with Dave's little fingers on Dirk's shirt. He has to use all his willpower to keep his face pleasantly smooth. He sits on the bed with its new cotton sheets and strokes Dave's hair. "But look how nice it is. All big boys have their own bed. And Mr Nickers can sleep with you."

Dave's mouth turns downward despite his best efforts. "No, Bro, I want to sleep with you. I don't want to sleep by myself."

"Why not?"

His brother either can't articulate or won't. He holds the horse tighter. "Because."

"But you're nine now."

"So?" Dave's fine blond brows are furrowed, his voice rising. He's upset. "Why don't you want to sleep with me? Are you mad at me?"

"No, little man, nothing like that. " Dirk pulls Dave into a hug, heading off trouble quickly. Dave strifes like the best Karate Kid that ever lived; he's pretty damn tough in a lot of ways. But he's still just a kid, and moving into a new apartment is a big change. It's been a long day for both of them. Maybe this isn't the best time to force the issue, no matter what Supernanny says. "Okay, okay. Just for tonight, all right? C'mon, get in."

Dave doesn't answer, he doesn't agree, but he climbs onto the bed and moves back against the wall. Dirk turns off the light though he wasn't planning to sleep yet and gets into bed. Dave immediately pushes the horse behind him and goes to Dirk, thin arms tight around his waist.

"Tomorrow, okay?" Dirk tries again, tugging the blankets into place and removing Dave's sunglasses. He kisses Dave's hair and adds reassuringly, "You can do it tomorrow."

Dave is still silent, and he stays that way until he falls asleep a few minutes later. Dirk stares at the ceiling, one arm around his brother, and tells himself that tomorrow is D-Day. Dave will sleep alone, and so will Dirk.

Even if it sucks.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! And just so you know, Dave didn't sleep by himself until three months later. But that's a another story. ;D