Leaf

Grayson and Todd had plans today - it was why Pennyworth had been the one to collect him from school. Brown and Cain were currently staying in the manor, but they usually only appeared around meals like the stray cats Damian fed behind the now defunct grilled cheese restaurant on the corner of Washington and 147th. Thomas and Drake usually returned later in the day - school and work respectively.

In short - Damian's room had either been breached by a stranger which was staggeringly unlikely, or there was a flaw in his information.

Throwing open the door, Damian's eyes met Drake's and every scathing insult died on his lips.

Because the older boy was sitting in Damian's desk chair with a pastel pink box on his lap. The same one that Damian had secreted away last night and hoped to return today with his older "brother" none the wiser.

"So, do you want to talk about this or..." Tim trailed off, seeming oddly relaxed.

"Get out of my room."

"Ok, because this Hello Kitty caboodle was a cherished gift from Stephanie and I was beside myself when I found out it was missing this morning."

Damian could see the bruising now, creeping up the side of Drake's neck where he'd turned to avoid taking a pipe to the throat.

"I decided to work from home," he explained unnecessarily, catching how Damian's eyes lingered on the too dark shadow around his collar. "Why did you take my makeup?"

Damian glared at him, lip curling in disgust.

"Ok," Drake said again. "At least tell me you didn't use my brushes and sponges. I don't want the cross contamination of your face germs."

"How dare you!" Damian hissed, clenching his free hand into a fist as well now. "To imply I'm unclean-"

"Oh my god, shut up. Everyone has weird face germs and whole ecosystems on their skin. People have mites in their eyelashes."

After a quick Google search, Damian determined that to be true and resolved to never think about it again.

"It's not sanitary to share," Drake concluded. Finally, he stood. Hopefully that meant that he was done with this whole mortifying ordeal. "But, Damian..."

"Leave," he ordered. Drake didn't. He just looked at Damian. It was- it was uncomfortable. Rude, even. And it certainly didn't make Damian sweat with the knowledge that a properly motivated Red Robin was nearly as observant as Batman himself.

"I'm going to make you an offer," Tim said, seemingly finding something in Damian's face or body language. "I'll take you out to a proper store for brushes and makeup - they'll be able to help with your shades and stuff better than I can - and as soon as we get home we'll never speak about it again."

Damian's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Arguably so you'll be better able to go undercover - Bruce had me posing as Caroline Hill when I was a little older than you are now. But also, maybe it's a gender thing."

"It's not."

"Okay," Drake agreed easily. "But I'm going out as a woman if we do go - I have a rapport with the workers at the Sephora in Burnley."

Drake had no pride as a man, that much was obvious. Internally, Damian could admit that wasn't... Bad.

"Do you... Prefer to be a woman?" he asked stiffly because he may think Drake was a consummate waste of air, but he wasn't a monster. He would use the right pronouns.

"I don't really care," he said. "I don't feel strongly one way or another."

Leave it to Drake to half ass the entire concept of his own gender.

"If you go as a woman, would I present a hindrance to your cover?" Damian asked before he remembered that leaving for a little makeup outing with Timothy Drake was one of the last things he wanted to do.

"I could swing it," he answered. "But I think you might have fun dressing up. Have you seen my collection of wigs?"

Without knowing how, exactly, Damian found himself sat down at a proper vanity in Drake's private bathroom, hair framing his face in gentle medium brown waves. As Drake struggled with an unopened tube of eyeliner in the background, he looked at himself in the mirror.