chef august is Cooking

He’d called Bruce the moment his bedroom door was closed. Damian hadn’t said much in the few minutes they spoke, practically refused to talk even, but it had become clear all too quickly that their father had no idea where the kid was. Dick loved his family, he really did, but they really put far too much stock in him being the supposed “emotionally intelligent” one – as if the miniscule amount of emotional maturity he’d gained over the years made him any better than the rest of them.

Damian scoffed. “Father? Happy? I didn’t know he was capable of such a thing.”

“Damian,” Dick said, and immediately winced at his own sharp tone.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Damian, either. He’d turned his head to face Dick when he’d come out of the bedroom, but at Dick’s tone he faced forward and slammed his head back against the couch, glaring up at the ceiling. Dick sighed and massaged above his left eyebrow. He could feel a headache coming on. He trudged over and flopped on the couch next to Damian, matching his posture.

“Sorry,” he said after a few moments. “It’s been a bit of a day.” 

Damian said nothing, even when Dick paused for him to speak.

“Sounds like it’s been a bit of a day for you too, though. Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Dick didn’t have the energy to prod. “Fair enough. Takeout?”

“Well we certainly won’t be eating your cooking.”

Dick grumbled as he hauled himself off the cushions. “Don’t know why you all think I can’t cook. I can cook just fine.”

“Do you even have groceries, right now?”

Dick didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough. Damian snorted. So what if he’d forgotten grocery day for the past three days? He was busy, he had a lot going on! He’d get around to it. Eventually. 

It took a ridiculous amount of takeout from the Indian place on the corner and about half of Disney’s Bolt for Damian to finally loosen up. He sighed as he slid another empty takeout box onto the coffee table with the rest and snatched up the remote to pause the movie. Dick waited, letting Damian get there in his own time.

“Father and I had an argument.”

“Yeah?”

“I took a calculated risk on a recent mission. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I would be okay, but Father thinks I was being reckless and stupid. He’s benched me for the foreseeable future.”

Dick inwardly winced. He remembered his own days of calculated risks and the massive blowouts that would happen after. Hell, they still had those fights, if Nightwing joined in on a Gotham or JL mission and had to make a snap-judgement call. 

“You probably really scared him, Dami.”

Damian crossed his arms and looked away. “Tt. If I hadn’t done it, the hostage would be dead. I didn’t even get hurt. I don’t understand why he’s making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick carefully scooted closer. “Sure, you weren’t hurt this time. Look at it from his perspective though. He saw his kid throw himself into danger, and he didn’t know if you’d come back out of it. He’s probably still running the ‘what-if’s in his head.”

Damian fidgeted, staying silent. His arms were crossed, hands clenching in his sleeves.

Dick sighed, rubbing at his head again. The food helped, but he could still feel the headache trying to get its claws into him. Maybe he needed to hydrate more. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, and I’m not saying he’s right. I think both of you are too stubborn to see what the other person is thinking and you really need to just sit down and talk.”

“Truly, this family’s greatest strength.”

Dick huffed, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey, don’t be a brat.” He threw an arm over Damian’s shoulders, tugging him a bit closer. It was harder now – the kid was going through a growth spurt, growing up too fast. “I’ll call Bruce again tomorrow, how about that? Try and get him to see things from your perspective.”

Damian started to nod.

“But,” Dick added quickly, “only if you try to do the same.”

Damian groaned, leaning into Dick’s side. After a moment, he relented. “Fine.” God, had Dick been this moody as a teenager?

No, scratch that. He’d been worse.

The rest of Bolt passed in relative silence, though this time Dick was blessed with a cuddle buddy tucked up against his side. It was still early even by normal standards, let alone a vigilante schedule, so Dick let Damian commandeer the remote once more and scroll through the slew of streaming services he’d stolen from Bruce. He leaned forward and away from Dick’s side to read the titles on the screen, his shoulders rigid with tension even still. Dick frowned.

Big brother’s work was never done.

Dick heaved out a dramatic sigh, leaning forward and flopping over Damian’s back. “Dami,” he said in a plaintive whine, drawing out Damian’s name. “I wanna watch Barbie. How about Island Princess?”

Damian scoffed. “That is arguably the worst one.”

“What? No, that’s Mermaid Tale 2. Island Princess has all the talking animals, I thought you’d love that!” Dick paused. “Wait, who showed you Island Princess without me?”

Leaning over Damian’s shoulder, Dick caught the edge of a smirk on his face. “Jason.”

Dick scowled. “He’ll regret that.”

“In any case, while the ability to speak with animals is an excellent concept on paper, the execution leaves much to be desired, considering they’re almost all insufferable.”

“No, come on, they’re endearing!”

Damian turned his head, staring Dick straight in the eyes. “I would sooner lose a limb than listen to Tika whinge ever again.”

“She wasn’t that bad – that was her whole character arc!”

“Richard, when was the last time you actually watched this movie?”

Dick rolled his eyes. Okay, yeah it had been a while. And honestly, from Dick’s vague memories of Tika, it’s possible she really was that insufferable. Still, the point was to oppose Damian’s surliness with his own particular brand of childish annoyance until it all melted away for the night, which meant that Damian couldn’t win. Not that they actually had to watch Island Princess necessarily, but he needed an excuse to warrant a little playful comeuppance. 

“It hasn’t been that long!”

Damian hummed. “Perhaps Father and Pennyworth need to do a check of your cognitive functions, then. It wouldn’t do for Nightwing to be operating with such a faulty memory.”

Gotcha. “Oh, that’s it.”

Damian’s eyes went wide and he threw himself sideways on the couch, out of Dick’s grip. Of course, that made it way too easy for Dick to crash on top of him and pin him to the cushions. He stole Damian’s little quirk, clicking his tongue playfully.

“Perhaps Bruce needs to up your defensive drills, Baby Bat. That was just about the worst retreat I’ve ever seen.”

Dick was rewarded with an adorable scowl and a flush of red in the tips of Damian’s ears. He grinned as he hovered two clawed hands over Damian’s stomach, wiggling his fingers slightly as a threat.

“Anything to say for yourself, kiddo?”

“This is childish!”

“Ah, yes. A classic. Never gets old.”

With a playful wink, he dug his clawed hands into Damian’s stomach. Damian gave into the game shockingly easily, making no effort to hold back his laughter. In fact, Dick would even dare to call it giddy, brighter and bubblier than usual. Seemed like the kid needed this. Dick decided to push his luck.

“Aww, listen to you! Was this what you were after, huh? Baby Bat needed some big brother time?”

“D-don’t patronize me!”

Dick honed in on Damian’s giggle-spot, a small patch of skin just to the right of his bellybutton. Damian scrubbed his head against the cushions, his nose wrinkling against the force of his smile. Dick smiled wider.

“How can I not when your giggles are just about the sweetest thing I ever heard?”

Damian flopped a hand upward, trying to shove at his face. Or, actually, he did shove at Dick’s face. He was really growing up too fast – how had Dick not realized he could reach now? His chest ached with something bittersweet, but Dick forced himself to stay in the here-and-now, cooing at Damian.

“Since when have you been the shy type, huh?”

“I’m not, you’re just obnoxious!”

Dick gave into his own laughter. “That’s my job, bud! Professional annoyance, at your service.”

Damian tried to groan through his giggles, but Dick took advantage of his raised arm and snuck a few wiggling fingers up into the hollow. Damian yelped and slammed his arm down, freeing Dick’s face but trapping Dick’s hand. He shifted off Damian’s giggle-spot, shaping his hand back into a claw and shaking the whole thing into the middle of Damian’s stomach.

“No!” Damian cried out, his legs kicking out against the cushions as his laughter ratcheted back up. He threw his head back against the cushions with the force of it, baring his throat – and wasn’t that just another wonderfully evil idea Dick just had?

“You’re so cute!” He chirped, leaning in. “I could just eat you right up!”

Damian’s eyes went wide, and, based on his squirming, he probably would have thrown himself off the couch if not for Dick’s weight sprawled over him. “Don’t you dare!”

Obviously, Dick dared. 

He started with a raspberry first, right in the crook between Damian’s neck and shoulder where it never failed to make him squeal. Then he started snuffling against the skin, like a pig searching for truffles, knowing that sometimes his breath tickled more than anything else when it came to such delicate nerves. Damian screeched before spiraling into high-pitched, panicked laughter. His legs spasmed under Dick’s weight, searching for traction, and Dick debated going for his knees too, but decided tickling two of Damian’s worst spots was too mean. At least for tonight — if Damian woke him up before ten the next morning, it was absolutely fair game.

“Om-nom-nom-nom,” Dick growled against Damian’s skin, still nuzzling and puffing breath onto his neck and ears.

“Shut— shut up!” Damian squeaked, tossing his head back and forth. “I’m not a child!” 

“Nope!” Both a response to the request and an agreement with Damian’s statement, though Dick doubted Damian was following that with his brain so scrambled. “You’re a surly little teenager now, but you’ll never grow out of being my baby brother.”

Damian’s chin cracked against the side of Dick’s skull in his thrashing, and Dick winced as he pulled away. It gave Damian the air to let out an annoyed groan around his continued laughter, which just wouldn’t do. He reached between their bodies, zeroing in on Damian’s gangly knees.

“Wait, not there!”

Dick grinned so wide his cheeks were sore. “Tickle tickle tickle, Baby Bat!”

Damian broke into ear-splitting cackles as Dick made contact, and he made sure to pull out all the stops. Pinching at the pressure points just above Damian’s knees, squeezing at the kneecaps themselves, skittering blunt nails around to the soft undersides. He laughed along as he turned Damian into a wrecked puddle of ticklish goop, cooing overly-sweet teases all the while to keep Damian blushing and hissing like a feral kitten. He didn’t stop until Damian slapped his hand against the back of the couch in a clear tap-out. He collapsed on top of Damian, weighted-blanket style, making him wheeze around his residual giggles.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing that,” Damian said once his breath had evened out, despite the fact that his smile lingered. 

Dick hummed, squeezing Damian close to his chest. “Cuz you’re my adorable baby brother and deserve all the smiles and sweetness in the world?” 

Damian’s flush came back with a vengeance, and Dick couldn’t help but snicker at his attempt at a disgruntled expression. He gave into the urge to press a kiss against Damian’s hairline.

“Someday I’m gonna be bigger than you,” Damian said. 

“And I’ll still get you just as good, kiddo.” At Damian’s raised eyebrow he continued, “Hey, you’ve seen me get Jay! None of you are ever gonna be too big for a big brother tickle attack.” 

“We’ll see.”

Dick snorted, but let Damian try to rebuild his pride. He sat back against the arm of the couch, pulling Damian with him so now he laid atop Dick. He carefully didn’t react when Damian snuggled closer, nuzzling his head up under Dick’s chin like a cat.

“What Barbie movie will it be, then?”

Damian thought about it for a moment. “The 12 Dancing Princesses?”

“An excellent choice.” Even if Dick doubted either of them would stay awake for the whole thing.

Dick was already pressing play on the movie when Damian spoke up next, his voice barely a whisper. “And, Richard? Thanks.”

He’d called Bruce the moment his bedroom door was closed. Damian hadn’t said much in the few minutes they spoke, practically refused to talk even, but it had become clear all too quickly that their father had no idea where the kid was. Dick loved his family, he really did, but they really put far too much stock in him being the supposed “emotionally intelligent” one – as if the miniscule amount of emotional maturity he’d gained over the years made him any better than the rest of them.

Damian scoffed. “Father? Happy? I didn’t know he was capable of such a thing.”

“Damian,” Dick said, and immediately winced at his own sharp tone.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Damian, either. He’d turned his head to face Dick when he’d come out of the bedroom, but at Dick’s tone he faced forward and slammed his head back against the couch, glaring up at the ceiling. Dick sighed and massaged above his left eyebrow. He could feel a headache coming on. He trudged over and flopped on the couch next to Damian, matching his posture.

“Sorry,” he said after a few moments. “It’s been a bit of a day.” 

Damian said nothing, even when Dick paused for him to speak.

“Sounds like it’s been a bit of a day for you too, though. Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Dick didn’t have the energy to prod. “Fair enough. Takeout?”

“Well we certainly won’t be eating your cooking.”

Dick grumbled as he hauled himself off the cushions. “Don’t know why you all think I can’t cook. I can cook just fine.”

“Do you even have groceries, right now?”

Dick didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough. Damian snorted. So what if he’d forgotten grocery day for the past three days? He was busy, he had a lot going on! He’d get around to it. Eventually. 

It took a ridiculous amount of takeout from the Indian place on the corner and about half of Disney’s Bolt for Damian to finally loosen up. He sighed as he slid another empty takeout box onto the coffee table with the rest and snatched up the remote to pause the movie. Dick waited, letting Damian get there in his own time.

“Father and I had an argument.”

“Yeah?”

“I took a calculated risk on a recent mission. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I would be okay, but Father thinks I was being reckless and stupid. He’s benched me for the foreseeable future.”

Dick inwardly winced. He remembered his own days of calculated risks and the massive blowouts that would happen after. Hell, they still had those fights, if Nightwing joined in on a Gotham or JL mission and had to make a snap-judgement call. 

“You probably really scared him, Dami.”

Damian crossed his arms and looked away. “Tt. If I hadn’t done it, the hostage would be dead. I didn’t even get hurt. I don’t understand why he’s making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick carefully scooted closer. “Sure, you weren’t hurt this time. Look at it from his perspective though. He saw his kid throw himself into danger, and he didn’t know if you’d come back out of it. He’s probably still running the ‘what-if’s in his head.”

Damian fidgeted, staying silent. His arms were crossed, hands clenching in his sleeves.

Dick sighed, rubbing at his head again. The food helped, but he could still feel the headache trying to get its claws into him. Maybe he needed to hydrate more. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, and I’m not saying he’s right. I think both of you are too stubborn to see what the other person is thinking and you really need to just sit down and talk.”

“Truly, this family’s greatest strength.”

Dick huffed, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey, don’t be a brat.” He threw an arm over Damian’s shoulders, tugging him a bit closer. It was harder now – the kid was going through a growth spurt, growing up too fast. “I’ll call Bruce again tomorrow, how about that? Try and get him to see things from your perspective.”

Damian started to nod.

“But,” Dick added quickly, “only if you try to do the same.”

Damian groaned, leaning into Dick’s side. After a moment, he relented. “Fine.” God, had Dick been this moody as a teenager?

No, scratch that. He’d been worse.

The rest of Bolt passed in relative silence, though this time Dick was blessed with a cuddle buddy tucked up against his side. It was still early even by normal standards, let alone a vigilante schedule, so Dick let Damian commandeer the remote once more and scroll through the slew of streaming services he’d stolen from Bruce. He leaned forward and away from Dick’s side to read the titles on the screen, his shoulders rigid with tension even still. Dick frowned.

Big brother’s work was never done.

Dick heaved out a dramatic sigh, leaning forward and flopping over Damian’s back. “Dami,” he said in a plaintive whine, drawing out Damian’s name. “I wanna watch Barbie. How about Island Princess?”

Damian scoffed. “That is arguably the worst one.”

“What? No, that’s Mermaid Tale 2. Island Princess has all the talking animals, I thought you’d love that!” Dick paused. “Wait, who showed you Island Princess without me?”

Leaning over Damian’s shoulder, Dick caught the edge of a smirk on his face. “Jason.”

Dick scowled. “He’ll regret that.”

“In any case, while the ability to speak with animals is an excellent concept on paper, the execution leaves much to be desired, considering they’re almost all insufferable.”

“No, come on, they’re endearing!”

Damian turned his head, staring Dick straight in the eyes. “I would sooner lose a limb than listen to Tika whinge ever again.”

“She wasn’t that bad – that was her whole character arc!”

“Richard, when was the last time you actually watched this movie?”

Dick rolled his eyes. Okay, yeah it had been a while. And honestly, from Dick’s vague memories of Tika, it’s possible she really was that insufferable. Still, the point was to oppose Damian’s surliness with his own particular brand of childish annoyance until it all melted away for the night, which meant that Damian couldn’t win. Not that they actually had to watch Island Princess necessarily, but he needed an excuse to warrant a little playful comeuppance. 

“It hasn’t been that long!”

Damian hummed. “Perhaps Father and Pennyworth need to do a check of your cognitive functions, then. It wouldn’t do for Nightwing to be operating with such a faulty memory.”

Gotcha. “Oh, that’s it.”

Damian’s eyes went wide and he threw himself sideways on the couch, out of Dick’s grip. Of course, that made it way too easy for Dick to crash on top of him and pin him to the cushions. He stole Damian’s little quirk, clicking his tongue playfully.

“Perhaps Bruce needs to up your defensive drills, Baby Bat. That was just about the worst retreat I’ve ever seen.”

Dick was rewarded with an adorable scowl and a flush of red in the tips of Damian’s ears. He grinned as he hovered two clawed hands over Damian’s stomach, wiggling his fingers slightly as a threat.

“Anything to say for yourself, kiddo?”

“This is childish!”

“Ah, yes. A classic. Never gets old.”

With a playful wink, he dug his clawed hands into Damian’s stomach. Damian gave into the game shockingly easily, making no effort to hold back his laughter. In fact, Dick would even dare to call it giddy, brighter and bubblier than usual. Seemed like the kid needed this. Dick decided to push his luck.

“Aww, listen to you! Was this what you were after, huh? Baby Bat needed some big brother time?”

“D-don’t patronize me!”

Dick honed in on Damian’s giggle-spot, a small patch of skin just to the right of his bellybutton. Damian scrubbed his head against the cushions, his nose wrinkling against the force of his smile. Dick smiled wider.

“How can I not when your giggles are just about the sweetest thing I ever heard?”

Damian flopped a hand upward, trying to shove at his face. Or, actually, he did shove at Dick’s face. He was really growing up too fast – how had Dick not realized he could reach now? His chest ached with something bittersweet, but Dick forced himself to stay in the here-and-now, cooing at Damian.

“Since when have you been the shy type, huh?”

“I’m not, you’re just obnoxious!”

Dick gave into his own laughter. “That’s my job, bud! Professional annoyance, at your service.”

Damian tried to groan through his giggles, but Dick took advantage of his raised arm and snuck a few wiggling fingers up into the hollow. Damian yelped and slammed his arm down, freeing Dick’s face but trapping Dick’s hand. He shifted off Damian’s giggle-spot, shaping his hand back into a claw and shaking the whole thing into the middle of Damian’s stomach.

“No!” Damian cried out, his legs kicking out against the cushions as his laughter ratcheted back up. He threw his head back against the cushions with the force of it, baring his throat – and wasn’t that just another wonderfully evil idea Dick just had?

“You’re so cute!” He chirped, leaning in. “I could just eat you right up!”

Damian’s eyes went wide, and, based on his squirming, he probably would have thrown himself off the couch if not for Dick’s weight sprawled over him. “Don’t you dare!”

Obviously, Dick dared. 

He started with a raspberry first, right in the crook between Damian’s neck and shoulder where it never failed to make him squeal. Then he started snuffling against the skin, like a pig searching for truffles, knowing that sometimes his breath tickled more than anything else when it came to such delicate nerves. Damian screeched before spiraling into high-pitched, panicked laughter. His legs spasmed under Dick’s weight, searching for traction, and Dick debated going for his knees too, but decided tickling two of Damian’s worst spots was too mean. At least for tonight — if Damian woke him up before ten the next morning, it was absolutely fair game.

“Om-nom-nom-nom,” Dick growled against Damian’s skin, still nuzzling and puffing breath onto his neck and ears.

“Shut— shut up!” Damian squeaked, tossing his head back and forth. “I’m not a child!” 

“Nope!” Both a response to the request and an agreement with Damian’s statement, though Dick doubted Damian was following that with his brain so scrambled. “You’re a surly little teenager now, but you’ll never grow out of being my baby brother.”

Damian’s chin cracked against the side of Dick’s skull in his thrashing, and Dick winced as he pulled away. It gave Damian the air to let out an annoyed groan around his continued laughter, which just wouldn’t do. He reached between their bodies, zeroing in on Damian’s gangly knees.

“Wait, not there!”

Dick grinned so wide his cheeks were sore. “Tickle tickle tickle, Baby Bat!”

Damian broke into ear-splitting cackles as Dick made contact, and he made sure to pull out all the stops. Pinching at the pressure points just above Damian’s knees, squeezing at the kneecaps themselves, skittering blunt nails around to the soft undersides. He laughed along as he turned Damian into a wrecked puddle of ticklish goop, cooing overly-sweet teases all the while to keep Damian blushing and hissing like a feral kitten. He didn’t stop until Damian slapped his hand against the back of the couch in a clear tap-out. He collapsed on top of Damian, weighted-blanket style, making him wheeze around his residual giggles.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing that,” Damian said once his breath had evened out, despite the fact that his smile lingered. 

Dick hummed, squeezing Damian close to his chest. “Cuz you’re my adorable baby brother and deserve all the smiles and sweetness in the world?” 

Damian’s flush came back with a vengeance, and Dick couldn’t help but snicker at his attempt at a disgruntled expression. He gave into the urge to press a kiss against Damian’s hairline.

“Someday I’m gonna be bigger than you,” Damian said. 

“And I’ll still get you just as good, kiddo.” At Damian’s raised eyebrow he continued, “Hey, you’ve seen me get Jay! None of you are ever gonna be too big for a big brother tickle attack.” 

“We’ll see.”

Dick snorted, but let Damian try to rebuild his pride. He sat back against the arm of the couch, pulling Damian with him so now he laid atop Dick. He carefully didn’t react when Damian snuggled closer, nuzzling his head up under Dick’s chin like a cat.

“What Barbie movie will it be, then?”

Damian thought about it for a moment. “The 12 Dancing Princesses?”

“An excellent choice.” Even if Dick doubted either of them would stay awake for the whole thing.

Dick was already pressing play on the movie when Damian spoke up next, his voice barely a whisper. “And, Richard? Thanks.”

He’d called Bruce the moment his bedroom door was closed. Damian hadn’t said much in the few minutes they spoke, practically refused to talk even, but it had become clear all too quickly that their father had no idea where the kid was. Dick loved his family, he really did, but they really put far too much stock in him being the supposed “emotionally intelligent” one – as if the miniscule amount of emotional maturity he’d gained over the years made him any better than the rest of them.

Damian scoffed. “Father? Happy? I didn’t know he was capable of such a thing.”

“Damian,” Dick said, and immediately winced at his own sharp tone.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Damian, either. He’d turned his head to face Dick when he’d come out of the bedroom, but at Dick’s tone he faced forward and slammed his head back against the couch, glaring up at the ceiling. Dick sighed and massaged above his left eyebrow. He could feel a headache coming on. He trudged over and flopped on the couch next to Damian, matching his posture.

“Sorry,” he said after a few moments. “It’s been a bit of a day.” 

Damian said nothing, even when Dick paused for him to speak.

“Sounds like it’s been a bit of a day for you too, though. Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

Dick didn’t have the energy to prod. “Fair enough. Takeout?”

“Well we certainly won’t be eating your cooking.”

Dick grumbled as he hauled himself off the cushions. “Don’t know why you all think I can’t cook. I can cook just fine.”

“Do you even have groceries, right now?”

Dick didn’t respond, but his silence was answer enough. Damian snorted. So what if he’d forgotten grocery day for the past three days? He was busy, he had a lot going on! He’d get around to it. Eventually. 

It took a ridiculous amount of takeout from the Indian place on the corner and about half of Disney’s Bolt for Damian to finally loosen up. He sighed as he slid another empty takeout box onto the coffee table with the rest and snatched up the remote to pause the movie. Dick waited, letting Damian get there in his own time.

“Father and I had an argument.”

“Yeah?”

“I took a calculated risk on a recent mission. I knew what I was doing, and I knew I would be okay, but Father thinks I was being reckless and stupid. He’s benched me for the foreseeable future.”

Dick inwardly winced. He remembered his own days of calculated risks and the massive blowouts that would happen after. Hell, they still had those fights, if Nightwing joined in on a Gotham or JL mission and had to make a snap-judgement call. 

“You probably really scared him, Dami.”

Damian crossed his arms and looked away. “Tt. If I hadn’t done it, the hostage would be dead. I didn’t even get hurt. I don’t understand why he’s making such a big deal out of it.”

Dick carefully scooted closer. “Sure, you weren’t hurt this time. Look at it from his perspective though. He saw his kid throw himself into danger, and he didn’t know if you’d come back out of it. He’s probably still running the ‘what-if’s in his head.”

Damian fidgeted, staying silent. His arms were crossed, hands clenching in his sleeves.

Dick sighed, rubbing at his head again. The food helped, but he could still feel the headache trying to get its claws into him. Maybe he needed to hydrate more. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, and I’m not saying he’s right. I think both of you are too stubborn to see what the other person is thinking and you really need to just sit down and talk.”

“Truly, this family’s greatest strength.”

Dick huffed, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey, don’t be a brat.” He threw an arm over Damian’s shoulders, tugging him a bit closer. It was harder now – the kid was going through a growth spurt, growing up too fast. “I’ll call Bruce again tomorrow, how about that? Try and get him to see things from your perspective.”

Damian started to nod.

“But,” Dick added quickly, “only if you try to do the same.”

Damian groaned, leaning into Dick’s side. After a moment, he relented. “Fine.” God, had Dick been this moody as a teenager?

No, scratch that. He’d been worse.

The rest of Bolt passed in relative silence, though this time Dick was blessed with a cuddle buddy tucked up against his side. It was still early even by normal standards, let alone a vigilante schedule, so Dick let Damian commandeer the remote once more and scroll through the slew of streaming services he’d stolen from Bruce. He leaned forward and away from Dick’s side to read the titles on the screen, his shoulders rigid with tension even still. Dick frowned.

Big brother’s work was never done.

Dick heaved out a dramatic sigh, leaning forward and flopping over Damian’s back. “Dami,” he said in a plaintive whine, drawing out Damian’s name. “I wanna watch Barbie. How about Island Princess?”

Damian scoffed. “That is arguably the worst one.”

“What? No, that’s Mermaid Tale 2. Island Princess has all the talking animals, I thought you’d love that!” Dick paused. “Wait, who showed you Island Princess without me?”

Leaning over Damian’s shoulder, Dick caught the edge of a smirk on his face. “Jason.”

Dick scowled. “He’ll regret that.”

“In any case, while the ability to speak with animals is an excellent concept on paper, the execution leaves much to be desired, considering they’re almost all insufferable.”

“No, come on, they’re endearing!”

Damian turned his head, staring Dick straight in the eyes. “I would sooner lose a limb than listen to Tika whinge ever again.”

“She wasn’t that bad – that was her whole character arc!”

“Richard, when was the last time you actually watched this movie?”

Dick rolled his eyes. Okay, yeah it had been a while. And honestly, from Dick’s vague memories of Tika, it’s possible she really was that insufferable. Still, the point was to oppose Damian’s surliness with his own particular brand of childish annoyance until it all melted away for the night, which meant that Damian couldn’t win. Not that they actually had to watch Island Princess necessarily, but he needed an excuse to warrant a little playful comeuppance. 

“It hasn’t been that long!”

Damian hummed. “Perhaps Father and Pennyworth need to do a check of your cognitive functions, then. It wouldn’t do for Nightwing to be operating with such a faulty memory.”

Gotcha. “Oh, that’s it.”

Damian’s eyes went wide and he threw himself sideways on the couch, out of Dick’s grip. Of course, that made it way too easy for Dick to crash on top of him and pin him to the cushions. He stole Damian’s little quirk, clicking his tongue playfully.

“Perhaps Bruce needs to up your defensive drills, Baby Bat. That was just about the worst retreat I’ve ever seen.”

Dick was rewarded with an adorable scowl and a flush of red in the tips of Damian’s ears. He grinned as he hovered two clawed hands over Damian’s stomach, wiggling his fingers slightly as a threat.

“Anything to say for yourself, kiddo?”

“This is childish!”

“Ah, yes. A classic. Never gets old.”

With a playful wink, he dug his clawed hands into Damian’s stomach. Damian gave into the game shockingly easily, making no effort to hold back his laughter. In fact, Dick would even dare to call it giddy, brighter and bubblier than usual. Seemed like the kid needed this. Dick decided to push his luck.

“Aww, listen to you! Was this what you were after, huh? Baby Bat needed some big brother time?”

“D-don’t patronize me!”

Dick honed in on Damian’s giggle-spot, a small patch of skin just to the right of his bellybutton. Damian scrubbed his head against the cushions, his nose wrinkling against the force of his smile. Dick smiled wider.

“How can I not when your giggles are just about the sweetest thing I ever heard?”

Damian flopped a hand upward, trying to shove at his face. Or, actually, he did shove at Dick’s face. He was really growing up too fast – how had Dick not realized he could reach now? His chest ached with something bittersweet, but Dick forced himself to stay in the here-and-now, cooing at Damian.

“Since when have you been the shy type, huh?”

“I’m not, you’re just obnoxious!”

Dick gave into his own laughter. “That’s my job, bud! Professional annoyance, at your service.”

Damian tried to groan through his giggles, but Dick took advantage of his raised arm and snuck a few wiggling fingers up into the hollow. Damian yelped and slammed his arm down, freeing Dick’s face but trapping Dick’s hand. He shifted off Damian’s giggle-spot, shaping his hand back into a claw and shaking the whole thing into the middle of Damian’s stomach.

“No!” Damian cried out, his legs kicking out against the cushions as his laughter ratcheted back up. He threw his head back against the cushions with the force of it, baring his throat – and wasn’t that just another wonderfully evil idea Dick just had?

“You’re so cute!” He chirped, leaning in. “I could just eat you right up!”

Damian’s eyes went wide, and, based on his squirming, he probably would have thrown himself off the couch if not for Dick’s weight sprawled over him. “Don’t you dare!”

Obviously, Dick dared. 

He started with a raspberry first, right in the crook between Damian’s neck and shoulder where it never failed to make him squeal. Then he started snuffling against the skin, like a pig searching for truffles, knowing that sometimes his breath tickled more than anything else when it came to such delicate nerves. Damian screeched before spiraling into high-pitched, panicked laughter. His legs spasmed under Dick’s weight, searching for traction, and Dick debated going for his knees too, but decided tickling two of Damian’s worst spots was too mean. At least for tonight — if Damian woke him up before ten the next morning, it was absolutely fair game.

“Om-nom-nom-nom,” Dick growled against Damian’s skin, still nuzzling and puffing breath onto his neck and ears.

“Shut— shut up!” Damian squeaked, tossing his head back and forth. “I’m not a child!” 

“Nope!” Both a response to the request and an agreement with Damian’s statement, though Dick doubted Damian was following that with his brain so scrambled. “You’re a surly little teenager now, but you’ll never grow out of being my baby brother.”

Damian’s chin cracked against the side of Dick’s skull in his thrashing, and Dick winced as he pulled away. It gave Damian the air to let out an annoyed groan around his continued laughter, which just wouldn’t do. He reached between their bodies, zeroing in on Damian’s gangly knees.

“Wait, not there!”

Dick grinned so wide his cheeks were sore. “Tickle tickle tickle, Baby Bat!”

Damian broke into ear-splitting cackles as Dick made contact, and he made sure to pull out all the stops. Pinching at the pressure points just above Damian’s knees, squeezing at the kneecaps themselves, skittering blunt nails around to the soft undersides. He laughed along as he turned Damian into a wrecked puddle of ticklish goop, cooing overly-sweet teases all the while to keep Damian blushing and hissing like a feral kitten. He didn’t stop until Damian slapped his hand against the back of the couch in a clear tap-out. He collapsed on top of Damian, weighted-blanket style, making him wheeze around his residual giggles.

“I don’t know why you insist on doing that,” Damian said once his breath had evened out, despite the fact that his smile lingered. 

Dick hummed, squeezing Damian close to his chest. “Cuz you’re my adorable baby brother and deserve all the smiles and sweetness in the world?” 

Damian’s flush came back with a vengeance, and Dick couldn’t help but snicker at his attempt at a disgruntled expression. He gave into the urge to press a kiss against Damian’s hairline.

“Someday I’m gonna be bigger than you,” Damian said. 

“And I’ll still get you just as good, kiddo.” At Damian’s raised eyebrow he continued, “Hey, you’ve seen me get Jay! None of you are ever gonna be too big for a big brother tickle attack.” 

“We’ll see.”

Dick snorted, but let Damian try to rebuild his pride. He sat back against the arm of the couch, pulling Damian with him so now he laid atop Dick. He carefully didn’t react when Damian snuggled closer, nuzzling his head up under Dick’s chin like a cat.

“What Barbie movie will it be, then?”

Damian thought about it for a moment. “The 12 Dancing Princesses?”

“An excellent choice.” Even if Dick doubted either of them would stay awake for the whole thing.

Dick was already pressing play on the movie when Damian spoke up next, his voice barely a whisper. “And, Richard? Thanks.”