Concerning Pumpkin Spice

Summary: Every year when the armageddon of pumpkin spice came, Jack threw himself into the tidal wave. Damian hid behind his umbrella and prayed it would somehow save him from drowning.

…

Damian only had one real complaint about fall, and it involved foods coming in flavors that should not be legal and a certain someone who brought them into his presence.

In other words, pumpkin spice and Jack. Every year when the armageddon of pumpkin spice came, Jack threw himself into the tidal wave. Damian hid behind his umbrella and prayed it would somehow save him from drowning. Or at least keep the nausea under control at the smell of pumpkin spice pickles. Thank goodness Jack hadn't been able to find those again this year.

That hardly made the sight of Jack pouring pumpkin spice milk into pumpkin spice cereal, complete with little pumpkin-shaped marshmallows, easier to see. "Do you even like that garbage, or do you just eat it because horrifying me gives you some twisted sense of enjoyment?"

Jack smirked. "Well, horrifying you is a nice perk, I'm not going to lie." He took a gulp of the milk out of the jug.

"That was incredibly unnecessary."

"I know." He shoved a heaping spoonful of food into his mouth. Damian tried to pretend that it was a normal bowl of cereal and ignore the fact that the milk was a weird color. It only halfway worked.

Jack gave him an annoyed look. "Oh please, Damian, just because your taste buds aren't refined enough to appreciate pumpkin spice doesn't mean that you have to look at me as if I'm eating a piece of roadkill."

"You don't have refined taste buds. Sometimes I wonder if you have a sense of taste at all."

"I have a very refined taste!"

"Putting chocolate syrup on a chicken sandwich doesn't mean you have a refined taste; it means your stomach is made of scrap iron."

"That was one time!"

"Oh yeah? What about your pickle-and-marshmallow s'mores?"

"Pickles and marshmallows are good together!"

"No, they're not. You've made me try that combination. Multiple times."

"That's it, I'm not talking to you."

"Oh good, then I won't have to bring up the fact that you dip strawberries in nacho cheese." Jack gave him a foul look, but didn't answer. Damian smirked and glanced at the clock. Jack could only keep up the silent treatment for so long. "Wow, it's going to be so nice and quiet around here."

It lasted exactly two hours and forty-seven minutes, which almost beat his record. "Damian, check out this pumpkin spice burrito!"

"I thought you said you weren't talking to me," Damian quipped, although he still got up. Jack would nag him until he did, anyways. It was orange and did not smell anything like what a burrito should smell like. "What did they do to that poor burrito?"

"They put pumpkin in it! Do you want to try?"

"You know the answer to that."

Jack sighed and picked it up. "Fine, be the Mr. Scrooge of fall."

"I'm not the Mr. Scrooge of fall!"

"Yes, you are. Years from now, the pumpkin-hating deviants of society will be insulted with the name Damian Hart."

Damian repressed the urge to mention that to many people, they were deviants of society. "I don't hate pumpkin, I just don't think it should be used as a universal flavor."

Jack froze mid-bite, blinked, and took the supposed burrito out of his mouth. "You don't hate pumpkin?"

"No. Did you think I did?"

"Considering you've turned down literally every pumpkin-flavored thing I've ever offered you, yes."

"That's because pumpkin spice chips aren't a thing that should exist. Or toothpaste. Or milk, or gum-"

"Okay, I get it. Then what is allowed to partake in the festive flavors of fall, Scrooge?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe food that isn't weird tasting like cinnamon and nutmeg."

Jack gave him a frustrated look. "I'm trying to include you in the fun, Damian. Help me out here."

"Do you seriously have no idea what is and isn't weird?" Damian flailed. Although on second thought, considering Jack's eating habits, that wouldn't surprise him at all. "Muffins? Pies? Normal things?"

"So, you like sweet pumpkin spice?"

"Sure, Jack. Sweet pumpkin spice. Let's go with that," he said tiredly.

Jack hummed in acknowledgement and bit a huge chunk out of his orange burrito. Damian left him to it.

The next morning, he walked into the kitchen to find a small mountain of pumpkin spice products on the table. Did Jack seriously eat all of what he bought last time already? It wasn't until he started to take a closer look at the labels that he noticed the pattern. Muffins, donuts, pancake mixes, cookies- wait.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Jack did not-

I'm trying to include you in the fun, Damian. Help me out here.

Damian messaged his temples with a groan. "Why are you like this, Jack?" he muttered, more to himself than his roommate would still be asleep for the next few hours. Still, he didn't want all the money Jack must have spent in this stuff to be wasted, so he resignedly popped open a box of pumpkin spice muffins.

They turned out to be… fine. Damian definitely didn't eat the whole box of them or anything. Jack must have only bought one box of those, not two. It was the only logical explanation.

…

A/N: Here, take something that I threw together in two days and decided to post in attempt to help me feel less guilty about all of my other fanfics being uncooperative.

I don't even really know why I wrote this, since I've never had most pumpkin spice flavored things (I'm allergic to most of them- yayy), but it popped into my head. And now, unfortunately for you, it's in your head. Thanks for reading, reviews and favorites are cherished in my soul, you know the drill. Hopefully I'll be able to pull one of my fanfics out of the black hole that is writers block soon ahahaha.