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Little Offenses

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Damian felt pressure on his feet, and he kicked forward just a little bit, enjoying the irritated grunt he received in response before adjusting his sketchbook on his lap.

“I won’t ask again, Demon Spawn.” Came Tim’s exasperated tone. “Move. Your. Feet.”

The pressure kicked forward, jarring Damian and sending a deep line of pencil across his page marring the sketch. The boy scowled at his notebook then remembered Todd’s advice. This would be an excellent opportunity to try it.

His brother sat opposite him on the couch, and Damian looked up into his eyes for a moment before he smirked, sticking his tongue out at Drake. It was a perfect moment of gloating before he turned his attention back to the page before him, spinning the pencil in his hand to its opposite end so he could remove the offending line.

A beat of silence passed before Drake sputtered, his legs pulling towards himself and relieving the minor pressure they’d had on Damian’s. “What was that?”

Damian maintained his silence forcing his brother to try again. “Damian. What on earth?”

When Damian didn’t answer again the weight on the couch shifted, Tim leaning forward, his hand pressing Damian’s book out of the way so he could make eye contact himself. Tim’s irritation was evident in his frown.

Damian grinned at him and stuck his tongue out again. Tim’s brows furrowed.

“That,” He said, and Damian could practically see the veins throbbing in irritation in his brothers head, “was rude.”

“What was rude?”

Damian craned his head backwards to see Grayson walking in. The older man frowned at them.

“Does Damian have something on his face?” He asked.

Tim scowled, flopping back to his end of the couch. “Yeah. A rude look. Go ahead Demon Brat. Show Dick and see what he thinks of your little joke.”

“Damian.” Dick’s tone held a note of warning.

“It is nothing that bad Grayson. Simply a technique to irritate Drake.” Damian leveled a glare at Tim.

“Show me.” Dick said.

Damian rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at his brother. Dick’s entire countenance changed. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open before pressing back together like a gate snapping shut against a grin.

“I was expecting more from you, Grayson.” Damian said.

His brother covered the distance between them in a few steps before leaning over to smother Damian in a hug. The boy squawked with outrage but couldn’t find a way to escape as he was pressed into the couch.

“Unhand me at once!” He snapped.

“Damian. That was adorable. Show me again?” Dick said, pulling away. His phone had ended up in his hand. “I want to send a picture to Steph. She’d love it too.”

“I will not.” Damian declared. “It is not cute, Grayson. It is a tactical device for overcoming difficulties.”

“What it is,” Dick said. “is the best thing I’ve seen in forever. Now please, show me again.” He waved the phone as if it could convince Damian to repeat his action.

The boy crossed his arms and glared. He was going to kill Todd the next time he saw him. With the exception of Drake his plan was backfiring. Instead of striking fear or irritation into the people around him it inspired a desire for pictures and sharing.

“Come on, Little D. It’s not often I get to see you act your age.” Dick tried again.

He would definitely be having words with Todd the next time he saw him. “One time.” Damian relented. “On the condition you tell me where Todd is right now.”