Chapter Text
Jason can’t make up his mind on whether it’s better to be wrapped up in the thick, warm blanket, or if he wants to press his forehead against the cold, soft leather of the couch. The fire roars across the room, not helping with his decision in the slightest. For a couple of seconds he’s too hot, and then suddenly he’s freezing, as if he’s been abandoned in the middle of the arctic.
Yesterday, Bruce left for his first out of state business trip since Jason moved into the manor a few months ago. Mere hours later, Jason began to feel run down, but put it down to the fact that he’d been up late the night before watching Dick defeat the final boss on a video game for him. He’d let himself believe that up until he’d almost collapsed with exhaustion at the dinner table. Alfred and Dick have been fussing over him ever since. Jason definitely does not like it.
The door opens as Jason pushes the blanket off him once more, and sits up despite the dizziness that suddenly washes over him. Dick is stood in the doorway with two bowls, some napkins tucked beneath them. He sets them on the coffee table and helps Jason scoot forward on the couch, then passes him the bowl.
“Got it?” He asks, still holding the bottom.
Jason nods, the shaking in his hands having stopped after taking his medicine earlier. “I’m okay,” he says, taking the bowl out of Dick’s hands, “thanks.”
His taste has been touch and go all day, so he’s not hopeful as he lifts a spoonful of soup to his lips. It’s not hot enough to burn his tongue (Alfred taught him to take from the sides and never the middle when eating soup), and he finds that he can just about taste it. As Dick had said before leaving the room, it’s chicken noodle. The broth is creamy whilst the noodles are silky and soothe his throat. He shovels it down with all the manners of a stray dog at a restaurant’s dumpster.
There’s a choking noise coming from next to him suddenly, and Jason turns his head just in time to see Dick spit his soup back out into his bowl. He looks at Jason horrified. “How’re you eating that? I added way too much salt.”
Jason shrugs, holding the bowl a little closer to him. “I like it,” he replies, eating another spoonful. The warmth of the broth and the silkiness of the noodles is doing wonders for his throat.
Dick shakes his head. “You wouldn’t if your tastebuds weren’t broken.” He stands and takes his bowl to the door, only to turn around to Jason before going through it. “I’m ordering takeout. Do you want anything?”
“I have soup,” Jason insists. “I’m good.”
“You really must be sick if you’re choosing that over takeout.”
An hour passes and in that time, Jason’s finished two bowls of soup, taken his blanket on and off a handful of times, and accepted more medication from Alfred. Whilst the butler gets on with jobs elsewhere in the manor, Dick’s opted to spend his evening with Jason. At some point Dick had gotten fed up with his younger brother’s constant threshing with the blanket, which resulted in him swapping it out for a lighter one. He’d also pulled him onto his lap and pressed an ice pack against his forehead, though this has made it easier for Jason to rob him of his chicken wings.
“‘Good with soup’ my ass,” Dick mumbles as Jason bites into another one, though there’s no malice in it. “I should’ve bought you your own.”
“Your food always tastes better anyway,” Jason replies, curling his legs up whilst resting his head against Dick’s chest.
“Whatever.” Despite his dismissive reply, Dick keeps one hand pressed against the ice pack on Jason’s forehead, the other tucked under his knees to keep him close.
The two spend the rest of the evening like that, tucked up together as the fire roars and old Disney films play. Dick isn’t the biggest fan of Disney, but Jason’s only seen one or two, and he can’t let him miss out on what’s basically a right of passage.
Besides, there’s worse way to spend his evening than making sure his little brother’s okay.