Warning: Lots of fluffiness.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story.
Cabinets, Pajamas and Blankets
Dick Grayson body-slammed into Jason Todd as he was making hot steaming black coffee in the Wayne Manor at 9pm well into the night. The white curtains in the kitchen fluttered sporadically as Dick Grayson flew past it at a blinding speed, leaving a whirlwind in his wake. The two bodies slammed into the overhead cabinet, rattling the pots and pans. A distinct crack echoed in the silent manor as if something hard had bashed against a concrete brick.
"Safe me!" cried the shorter of the two as he hugged the other.
"…"
No reply came. The figure on the floor was scalded with two–degree burns on his thighs and a large bump was beginning to form on his head. Light footstep thundered down the stairs to reveal young boy with a soldier haircut wearing black cat pajamas.
"Grayson! Return to your bed this instance or I will report this to father, or worse, Pennyworth," said Damian Wayne.
"Nooo, Dami, please not Alfie! He would take away the cookies!" Dick released the unconscious man and the body flopped lifelessly onto the ground. A trickle of saliva flowed down the side of his mouth and his eyes rolled back towards his skull. Damian could swear he saw something flew out of his brother's mouth. Must be the trick of the light.
Dick grabbed the pants of Damian's pajamas and looked pleadingly with his teary red trimmed eyes, his nose streaming like a running faucet. Damian was not fooled, instead concerned himself with the rising heat radiating off the older man's body. He pulled the hands off his pajamas and grabbed the underarms of the sick man, and started dragging.
"You'll only be hindrance to father if your health continues deteriorate." Dick slumped into the boy's arms and let his body slide upwards the rugged stairs and into his room. Damian flung Dick onto the bed and threw the blankets over him.
"Tuck me in, Dami" A soft voice came from his side.
An unfamiliar flush went through Damian and his face heat up as he sputtered, "-Tt-, don't be ridiculous, Grayson! It's childish and unnecessary."
A light snore was his only answer.
He stopped, hesitated and fidgeted for a minute. He stalked towards the bed, took up the corners and pulled it up to the slumbering man's neck.
A throat cleared behind him and Damian spun around, hands going to where he would keep his batarangs in his pockets.
Jason raised an eyebrow at the young bird's ruffled feathers while a hand held an ice pack to his head.
"What?!" hissed the boy. He said nothing as Damian ran out of the room with a flustered face, ears and neck as red as a sun tan. The older boy stood at the door for a moment before entering.
"I know you're awake."
A feeble chuckle came from beneath the blankets and bright blue eyes opened tiredly as he snuggled into the covers.
Jason walked up to the bed. Taking the ice pack from his head he placed it on his brother's forehead.
"Sleep, Dickie-bird. I'll kill you tomorrow."
A quiet laugh followed. "I'll hold you on to that."