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Clark wouldn’t stop grinning, and Bruce wanted to punch him. Maybe smother him with the Santa hat on his head. “Stop it.”
“I can’t believe this.” Clark repeated for probably the seventh time. “Bruce, I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe this.”
Bruce huffed, trying to turn away. It was no use, of course, since Diana was standing on his other side, her smile just as big. He knew his mumble was pouty, but he couldn’t help it. “Can’t believe what.”
“That you brought Robin to the League Christmas party,” Clark practically squealed, literally hovering over Bruce’s occupied shoulder. “That he fell asleep. That you’re toting him around like a baby.”
“I can see why Nightwing is so…smitten,” Diana added, sounding incredibly fond herself as she ran her fingers gently over Damian’s hair. Damian didn’t react, face smushed against the padding on Batman’s collarbone, mouth slightly agape. “He is adorable.”
“Both of you stop it.” Bruce snapped. Neither did, just like neither mentioned the blush appearing on their friend’s cheeks. It would have traveled up past the cowl, had Bruce had the mask in place. “I brought him because the manor has been compromised, and I don’t feel safe leaving him or Alfred there alone for the time being. He fell asleep because holidays in Gotham always mean a spike in crime, and he’s running on thirty-seven hours of no rest. And I am carrying him because I don’t trust the likes of any of you to actually leave him be. Thus far, the two of you have proven my theory completely right.”
There was a snigger from the corner, where Hal, Oliver, Dinah and Barry were huddled, followed by a slight breeze and the light click of a camera. Bruce blinked and saw the device in Barry’s hand, holding it out for the others to look.
“It’s just,” Clark started, floating in front of Bruce to dissuade him from storming across the space station towards their teammates. “You don’t bring him around that often. We met all your other Robins, multiple times. But Damian…it’s like you’re keeping him a secret from us.”
“So when you do bring him up, regardless of the circumstances,” Diana picked up easily, hand gentle on Bruce’s tensed forearm. “It’s…almost like it’s a bit of a treat.” Her eyes were soft as they moved back down to Damian’s face. Due to the position of his mouth, his slow breathing was loud and whistling. Diana reached out, rearranging the yellow cape across his shoulders. Damian shifted and his arm dropped out of the cocoon of Bruce’s embrace, swinging loosely at his side. “I just cannot get over how much he looks like you.”
“I’ve been told.” Bruce sighed. Suddenly, surprisingly, he leaned his face against Damian’s hair. “He doesn’t like attention. If he ever asked to meet you all, though, I would let him.”
Diana and Clark glanced at each other with knowing smiles. Clark sighed dramatically as he fell to the floor and spun away. “I’ll get the eggnog.”
“Good.” Diana nodded, reaching her arms out. Bruce stared down at her, taking a step back and turning Damian away. Diana just rolled her eyes. “Give him to me.”
“What?” Bruce demanded. “Why?”
“You mentioned your son had been awake for about thirty-seven hours. Everyone on this satellite knows you’ve probably been awake much longer.” Diana explained. “You are just as tired as he is, probably even more so. So give him to me, and take the rest you need.”
“If you’re somehow weirdly worried about it, we won’t take him from this room.” Clark said as he returned, two cups in his hand.
Bruce paused for a moment, thinking it over. Ultimately, he shook his head. “Thank you, Diana, but I think it would be best if-”
“Bruce.” Diana’s voice suddenly dropped, her eyes sharp. The one true signal of ‘no debate’ if there ever was one.
And not even Batman could argue with Wonder Woman in this state.
Bruce exhaled. “Any damage he inflicts on you I’m not responsible for.”
Diana’s features immediately warmed as Bruce cradled the back of Damian’s head and leaned forward. Damian sniffed, letting out sound not unlike a kitten. “Shh, you’re alright, child.” Diana cooed. She easily took Damian’s weight, rocking him quickly so she could wrap his legs around her waist. Almost instantly she began humming a low tune, swaying lightly as she walked away from Bruce. Damian quickly settled in her arms, giving a content sigh.
“See? No problem.” Clark observed, shoving a cup into Bruce’s hands and clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s just for a little bit. And if kiddo’s as tired as you say, he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”
“…I guess.” Bruce agreed reluctantly, taking a sip. It was good, but not as good as Alfred’s. That reminded him he’d have to call the elder gentleman, who was staying at Titans Tower, within the hour, lest he worry.
Bruce didn’t resist as Clark pushed him towards the sofa in the corner. He plopped down on his own free will, inhaling the scent of the evergreen tree a few feet away. He could see the whole room from here, could see his friends and teammates mingling. Laughing quietly, catching up with the ones they hadn’t seen in a while, sharing new family photos. Could see some of them sparing glances in Damian’s direction, giving the child an understanding smile.
His son had a whole family up here in this stupid satellite and didn’t even know it.
Hopefully, some day, he will.
Bruce leaned his head on his hand, eyes drooping as he watched Diana pause in her walk to chat with J’onn and Arthur. He saw J’onn look between the sleeping boy and him, obviously comparing their features. He even saw Diana sneak a quick kiss to Damian’s forehead.
What was the word she’d used? Smitten. Dick was smitten with his youngest brother.
Well, now it looked like she was too. She, and everyone else in the Justice League.
(Heaven help the criminal who decides to hurt that boy next.)
“He’s fine, Bruce.” Clark promised, leaning on the sofa’s arm. “Now go on, take your nap. I swear on my mother’s life I’ll stop Barry and Hal from drawing on your face.”
Bruce snorted a laugh, but did as he was told, leaning back into the cushions and crossing his arms. He took a few more seconds to watch Diana continue her slow lap around the room before closing his eyes. “Thanks, Clark. Thank Diana for me too, if I’m out by the time she comes by.”
“Consider it a gift.” Clark hummed, chuckling as Damian seemed to burrow his face into Diana’s hair. “Merry Christmas, Bruce.”
Bruce just grunted in return, already slipping into an easy sleep.
(And when the group photo of the party came out a few days later – of everyone grinning or laughing, huddled around the couch. Of Diana sitting next to a suddenly Santa-fied, passed out Bruce, the equally unconscious, now with reindeer antlers, Damian still in her arms – it seemed Bruce was a lot less…grumpy about it than he should have been. Not that anyone complained. Or made copies of the photos. Or gave any of said copies to Alfred Pennyworth and Nightwing. No, of course not. Never crossed their minds.)