"Oh, come on, Tim! It'll be hilarious!" Jason followed along, crowding up behind the younger man and generally being a nuisance as Tim moved around the kitchen.
"You are the only person who would find that hilarious." He tried to elbow Jason out of his space, but the man refused to budge.
"That is a blatant lie and we both know it." He attempted to stick his finger in the cream sauce Tim was cooking, but ended up smacked on the hand for his efforts. Scowling, he grabbed Tim's wrist and wrestled the spoon from him, licking up the remnants of sauce with a delighted hum. Ignoring Tim's disgusted expression when he dropped it back in the pan, he continued, "You love tormenting that little brat."
Tim opened his mouth to protest, but stopped and simply rolled his eyes. "Fine, yes, you win. It would be a little hilarious."
"And by a little you really mean extremely," Jason crowed, finally backing off when Tim took a swing at his head. He handed Tim the colander that the younger man pointed at, hand held out expectantly.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jay."
Jason smirked, sliding right up behind Tim and boxing him in against the counter. Tim stiffened when Jason's lips met his ear and murmured hotly, "Oh, believe me, where that outfit's concerned, sleep is the last thing I'm thinking about."
Tim's ears went red, and he would've nailed Jason in the crotch if the man hadn't stepped away with a wicked grin. "You, ugh, stay away from me. Go set the table."
"So does this mean we've got a deal?" Not moving, Jason watched Tim strain the pasta through the colander, hot water spinning down into the sink drain.
"Yes, we have a deal. Now go set the table," Tim repeated, dumping the pasta and sauce into a bowl and stirring them together.
"Perfect. Deal sealed." And before Tim could even think to react, Jason's fingers threaded into his hair and yanked his head to the side, teeth coming down in a strong bite to the meaty part of the shorter man's throat.
"Ow! Damn it, Jason! Seriously!?" He couldn't even retaliate with the bowl in his hand!
Jason licked his thumb and pressed it into the angry red mark, and Tim jerked away, all but dropping the pasta on the table. "Stop it, you ass!" He clapped his hand over the bite, and hurried over to the wall mirror. "God, it's freaking bleeding." He prodded delicately at the wound, flinching when it gave a nasty throb. "What the hell was that for?"
Jason was all too pleased with himself, and he gestured with a forkful of food. "That, my dear sidekick, is my fun to be had with Dickie-bird."
When he went to put the fork in his mouth, Tim whacked him upside the head with a swift backhand. "You bit me to screw with Dick? Your idiot brain couldn't come up with something better?"
"Just take my word for it," Jason rubbed the back of his head, while Tim sat down across from him. "That little love mark is going to drive Golden Boy insane."
"This is not a love mark. It's just further proof that you're a moronic caveman." Tim portioned out a plate of food for himself. "Dick isn't going to rise to your bait."
Chuckling, Jason retorted through a mouthful, "You keep thinking that."
"Hey, Damian, you got something in the mail." Dick nodded thankfully to Alfred, and wandered towards the drawing room where his former partner lay sprawled atop a bunch of cushions on the floor, Titus spread out next to him. He had headphones in, and his eyes closed, so Dick dropped the envelope on his face with a smile.
"Wha—Grayson!" Damian sat up halfway, pulling out his earbuds with a snarl. "What is this?" He waved the offending paper in the air.
"Mail for you." Dick sat back in an armchair, ankle crossed at the knee. "Birthday card, maybe? Colin hasn't sent you one yet, has he?"
A finger slicing through the top of the envelope, the teen replied, "No, he gave it to me personally yesterday morning."
Dick made a thoughtful noise and questioned, "I wonder who—"
"Augh!" Dick shot out of his seat in a panic at Damian's scream, unaccustomed to such outbursts from the boy.
"What? What happened?" He watched in confusion as Damian flung a piece of paper away from him with such force, it cleared the entire room, hitting the wall and falling innocently to the ground.
"Burn it! Burn it now, Grayson!" Damian clasped his face desperately, Titus growling and barking in the chaos. "Ugh, god, my eyes, I'll never unsee this! I'll kill them, I swear it! I'll kill them!"
Eyes wide, Dick approached the object cautiously. Bending down with another worried glance at Damian's curled up form, he picked it up, turned it over, and nearly ended up dropping it in shock. He stared at the cheerful writing.
Happy Birthday to our baby of the family. Much love, from The Hoods. XOXO
It wouldn't have been anything if it weren't for, good lord, what was Tim wearing, it was actually really kind of ho—no, bad Dick, bad thoughts. God, there was even a lipstick kiss pressed to the corner of the personalized card.
With a grim smile, Dick turned back to the boy. "They're just trying to rile you up, little D. You know that." And really, Tim's legs in those fishnets were more than enough to rile even the most pious of men. Dick completely understood Jason’s possessive hand placement. Damian moaned like he was in agony, and Dick winced.
Well, maybe Damian's case was slightly different.
Eyes falling back to the photo, he shook his head with unbidden fondness for his two renegade brothers, guns posed just so. He could perfectly picture the ridiculous grin on Jason's face beneath the helmet. About to set it aside, something caught his attention and he refocused in on Tim's neck.
The ripping noise pulled Damian's head up, and he watched the shredded pieces flutter to the floor. His mentor's face was gradually turning a beet red, shoulders tensed for a fight. Turning slowly on his heel, Dick's eyes sparked with a blinding vengeance, and Damian grinned at the man's words.
"I'm going to kill Jason."