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Damian was no stranger to unnatural phenomena. During his time as Robin - almost five years now, give or take a few stints of ‘I don’t need Robin!’ here and ‘You’re on your own, Batman’ there - he had encountered numerous unexplainables; time travel, alternate universes colliding, body swaps (which had, admittedly, been humorous), occultists attempting to summon their overlord, weaponized sex pollen, evil clones, and much more. Damian was comfortable - mostly - with that. There was protocol for that.
There wasn’t protocol for this, or at least none that he knew of.
“If you keep scowling at everything like that, your face is going to stick.”
Damian was sure his scowl only deepened. If having a full-sized Grayson hang over the back of his chair wasn’t bad enough, having a miniature one perched on the top of it with his skinny little legs - well, alright, not skinny, but definitely not as fine-tuned as Grayson’s were in this day and age - dangling on either side of his head was so much worse. The tips of Grayson’s pixie boots brushed against his cheek every time the boy so much as shifted, and it was sending the kind of shivers down Damian’s spine that he did not want to admit to feeling.
“What my face may look like is none of your concern.” Damian snapped. “You should be attempting to recover your memory so we can turn you back.”
Dick – Robin – sighed and crossed his legs, locking Damian’s head in the middle. “If I am older than you say I am, then it will wear off on its own. Pretty sure I’m in a different time, though.”
“You are not-” Damian struggled to remove Dick’s legs, and ultimately failed. Despite his now-small stature, Dick was still an acrobat, and even his teenage body reflected that. “-from another time, Grayson. You are simply…”
“Fun-sized?” Damian could hear his grin.
“This is hardly what I would call fun.” Damian muttered. Searching through old case files to locate a “cure” for Dick’s condition was more monotonous than anything. To his knowledge, this had happened before, so why wasn’t there a proper report on it?
“Then let’s make it fun,” Dick slid down the the chair, landing haphazardly in Damian’s lap and hanging precariously towards the ground. He twisted his upper body towards Damian so he could grin, eyes shining with mischief. “You’re Robin here. Impress me.”
Damian’s response stuck on his tongue. What did being the current Robin have to do with impressing a pint-sized version of the first Robin? “What?”
“You said you were once my Robin here, so prove it. Impress me.”
Damian stared for a moment. He didn’t need to impress some regressed form of his ex-mentor. Dick was already proud of him, he knew that. The oaf hardly let him forget it, for whatever sentimental reason he no doubt held. There was no need to- “I built a Batmobile with flight capability.”
Dick’s eyes widened, part awe and part disbelief, “No way.”
Damian shifted underneath him, keeping his focus pointedly off the lower half of Dick’s body settled nicely in the crease between his legs. How he had managed to actively fight crime in that, Damian didn’t know. “I did.”
Dick hummed thoughtfully, leaning closer. “Alright, boy genius. Show me.” He slid off Damian’s lap, resting his hands on his hips as he waited. Damian hesitated for a moment before standing, allowing his cape to fall around him. He was careful not to brush against Dick as he moved around the boy, leading the way towards the transportation hanger.
“Dig the boots, by the way.” Dick chirped. “Very cool.”
Damian grunted, resisting the urge to remind Dick that he’d been the one to design it in the first place, and also shoving off the ridiculous smugness welling in his chest. He stopped before his Batmobile, fishing the keypad from his utility belt and inputting the right codes that allowed the two “wings” to extend away from the vehicle. The engines started up, filling the cave with a low, rumbling growl.
“Whoa,” Dick grinned. He jogged past Damian, putting his hands on the front bumper and leaning forward. Damian averted his eyes as Dick’s cape fell to the side. He didn’t stare at the round, revealed backside of his deaged mentor, regardless that the scaled fabric didn’t cover everything; an obscene amount of cheek hung out on either side, in Damian’s opinion.
“-take me for a ride?”
“What?” Damian spluttered.
“Can we go for a ride?”
“We.” Damian replaced his scowl, “Probably shouldn’t.”
“Come on, Damian.” Though his name was said with some uncertainty, Dick still remained exuberant. “It will be fun. You can drive.”
“It would be irresponsible,” Damian muttered. Though, honestly, if Dick remembered anything when this was all over he would probably applaud Damian for breaking procedure for once.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” Dick winked.
“W-what?”
“It’ll be a surprise,” Dick sang, skipping towards the passenger door.
Damian stared at him for a moment. He wanted to deny him; to be responsible, regardless of what Dick would think when he was back to his usual age. Dick was so eager though. And he was impressed. Damian deepened his scowl to hide his pleased flush.
“You know you want to,” Dick teased across the hood of the car.
He was right.
Damian forced himself to sigh, and dragged his feet more than necessary towards the driver door. Dick cheered - or maybe cackled - and slipped into the vehicle. Damian followed suit, settling in the seat and attempting to ignore Dick’s blatant beam. “This is so cool.”
“-tt- Of course it is.” Damian smirked, grabbing the wheel. “One ride. I drive.”
Dick chuckled, “and then you get your surprise.”
The way Dick purred the words was mildly concerning…and unfairly sexy for his age - honestly, when had Grayson gone through puberty because apparent fourteen-year-olds were not supposed to have mastered the bedroom voice - and Damian swallowed in response. “You’re the old Robin. I doubt you’ll be able to impress me.”
Dick hummed, grin stretching across his lips. “We’ll see.”
They held each other’s gaze for just a moment before Damian looked out the front window and pressed down on the gas.