Robin (Dick Grayson) One-shots

Cuddle?

AN:

Three years since the last one, but since people wanted fluff then... well... here's a short fluffy one-shot inspired by my mango allergy and my sister's behavior when she's sick. 

A fist pounded against the door, making Dick look up from where he had been staring absently into space for the past few hours.

"Dick? Alfred made soup..."

He groaned in response, heaving himself off his bed and stumbling to the door. He emerged slowly, blanket draped over his shoulders and hair sticking up in every direction.

"Um... Dick? You can go back to your room, it's okay. I can just get the soup and bring it to you..."

"'m fine, Tim..." Dick mumbled, running a hand along the wall for support as he staggered past his brother and toward the kitchen.

"Right... okay. Sure. You're fine." Tim nodded, knowing all too well that the other male was not in fact fine. "But we're just worried about... if you go back to your room, I'll bring the soup and stay to cuddle?"

"Don't wanna stay in my room... living room?"

"Okay. Living room is okay. Just... let me help you get there?"

Dick nodded letting Tim duck under his shoulder and assist him the rest of the way down the hallway and into the living room.

Damian jumped up from the couch at their entrance, rushing over to inspect the slowly drooping blanketed form of Richard Grayson. "Grayson, you look horrible. I told you not to eat that mango."

"But I like mangoes..." Dick protested weakly, reaching for the teen and grinning faintly when Damian did not pull away and instead moved to his other side to help Tim get him to the couch.

"You're also allergic to them, Grayson. Allergic. That means you're supposed to avoid them, not go around consuming them like an idiot, you moronic imbecile."

"Pretty sure moron and imbecile mean the same thing." Dick protested, grimacing ever so slightly as his brothers eased him down onto the couch. They pulled away, making him pout, blue eyes growing sad as he blinked up at them, looking completely miserable. "Cuddle?"

Damian scrunched up his nose in distaste. "Grayson, I refuse to encourage your bad behavior with rewards."

"He's sick... just... just cuddle with him? Please? You know how he gets when he's sick." Tim elbowed the youngest, doing everything in his power not to look at Dick as the blue eyes grew even sadder, shoulders slumping and pout increasing. "I'm going to get the soup."

"Please, Dami? Don't you love me?" Dick asked, tone filled with sorrow as he met Damian's eyes. Sick Dick meant cuddling. Lots and lots of cuddling. He got clingy and easily upset, and worst of all, no one in the house could say no to him when faced with those sad blue eyes.

Damian sat down on the couch, letting Dick curl up next to him and wrap his arms around him. "You're lucky I don't want Bruce getting angry with me again." Damian huffed, secretly enjoying the cozy feeling of being wrapped up in his older brother's arms, Dick's head dropping to rest on his shoulder.

Tim returned a few moments later carrying a bowl of soup and thermos of tea. "Want to watch a movie?"

Dick nodded, reaching toward Tim in a silent plea for him to join the cuddle as well.

With an eyeroll, Tim grabbed the TV remote off a side table and joined the others on the couch. An attempt to hand Dick the bowl of soup was met with sad puppy dog eyes, and so, with another eyeroll, Tim fed Dick the soup as The Sound of Music began playing.

A few hours later and halfway into a second movie, Jason showed up.

He took one look at the three sprawled out on the couch, Damian still wrapped up in Dick's arms, and simply laughed. "What did he do this time?"

"Mangoes."

"Of course." Jason rolled his eyes when Dick looked over at him pleadingly, squeezing his way in between Tim and Dick as he began to gently card his fingers through the eldest's still messy hair. "You know, for the Golden Boy, you really are quite stupid."

Dick pouted. "But I like mangoes..."

"Shut up, Grayson."

From the doorway Alfred watched the four with a fond expression on his face. It was rare to see the boys get along so well. 

Did he feel bad about leaving a mango out in plain sight, knowing that Dick would be unable to resist the temptation? Sure he did. 

He hated to see the boy not feeling good. 

But it was worth it. 

No one needed to know that he intentionally planted food that Dick was allergic to around the house every month or so in order to get the boys to show proper affection to each other. 

It was a secret he would take with him to the grave.