Aenx

Dick was once part of a commune.

Jason, back from the dead and built like a fucking tank, is minding his business. Minding his business, y’all. He’s reading in his favorite chair—the one that still sits in Bruce’s study, in the same position angled toward the sun—when he hears someone come in. He figures it’s Bruce, but then there’s this—

“Ow!” It takes everything in him not to punch first and ask questions later. When he sees it’s Dick, he kinda wishes he’d punched first. “The fu—did you bite me?”

And Dick just stares at him, all gooey eyes and a dopey smile. “You look so adorable, Little Wing! Just reading in your little chair.”

Jason blinks in confusion and rubs at the angry red bite mark on his forearm. “I’m reading, you nut case! There’s nothing—I’m not adorable!”

Dick makes grabby hands at him and bares his teeth in an unhinged smile. Jason abandons his book and runs before he’s injured any further.

Tim is sleepy. Not exhausted after days of no rest or crashing after an unholy amount of caffeine. Nope—just regular, warm, cuddled up in an oversized hoodie he stole from Bruce and nodding off peacefully sleepy.

He blinks once, twice, then slowly lets his eyes shut as he settles into the plush couch cushions for a nap. Yesssss, sleep. Blissful, restful, painful—

Painful?

Two things happen at once. Tim opens his eyes to find JesusChristDickWhatTheFuckBackUp, and his hand moves so quickly to examine his right cheek that he damn near concusses himself and Dick.

“Dick, what the shit?” He pulls his hand away from his cheek to check for blood. “Did you bite me, you fucking lunatic?”

Dick just looks down at him with big puppy eyes.

“You’re so cute and sleepy! Go back to your nap, I’ll just sit here.”

And before Tim can argue, Dick has invaded his space and rearranged their limbs on the couch. He’s twisted up in a way that can’t be comfortable, but Tim’s head is in his lap and he’s massaging his scalp and wow, okay, sleepy time now.

“So cute,” Dick whispers as Tim nods off again.

This isn’t the first time Dick has seen Damian in the full Robin costume. It’s not even the hundredth time. It is, however, the first time he squeals like an absolute freak and bites Damian’s hand as he reaches for a Batarang.

“Richard!” The boy is positively incensed as he snatches his hand away from his eldest brother’s teeth. “What in the absolute—“

Tim pops his head around the corner and laughs. “Did he get you too?”

Jason turns from the Batcomputer. “He finally got you? You’re officially one of us now!”

Duke snorts from the equipment locker. “One of us. One of us.”

Cass smiles silently, then shows off a deep set of teeth marks in the skin between her forefinger and thumb. Damian’s eyes widen comically. The others being bitten? That’s one thing, they’re…them. Cassandra? The only explanations are that she allowed herself to be bitten or that Dick has some manner of power that made it possible for him to beat the best of them (and it pains him to admit this).

Damian blinks up at Dick, suddenly unsure of what to make of his eldest sibling.

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