This was outrageous, and Damian refused to give in. After all, he was Damian Wayne — Robin, son of Batman, former assassin — and he would not be bested by a Christmas tree.

Damian glanced up, scowling furiously. That blasted tree stared back, still as infuriatingly tall as ever. Damian's eyes flitted to the ornament in his hand — the (frankly hideous) star that Grayson had told him needed to be placed at the top of the tree. Well, Damian fully intended to follow through with that, as soon as he found a way to reach the top.

(It didn't matter, he silently insisted. One's height did not indicate their skill or excellence. Besides, one day he'd be taller than his father, so he could deal with his short stature for a few more years).

He supposed he could call Grayson — for some reason, the man insisted on hanging around in the lead-up to Christmas, despite the fact that he no longer lived in the manor. It was ridiculous, in Damian's opinion — Grayson stopped by sporadically at best throughout the year, and yet in this one week, he had hardly left the manor. Frankly, Damian couldn't understand why everyone thought so highly of this foolish holiday, but if it meant he saw more of Grayson, he'd put up with it.

(And he only wanted Grayson around because it seemed to make Father happy. That was the only reason).

Damian huffed, his eyes narrowing. No he would not call Grayson. He was the best Robin of them all, and there was no way that he'd allow himself to be bested by a plant.

Damian stood on the tips of his toes, his teeth clenched as he tried to reach as high as he could. He felt himself wobbling slightly, and his eyes widened as he fell forward, unable to stop himself from falling against the tree. The cursed plant didn't even sway — no warning whatsoever, Damian thought bitterly — before tipping over. Damian reached for it, but it was too heavy, and simply pulled him along. He closed his eyes, dreading the lecture he would undoubtedly receive for this from both Father and Pennyworth —

— but the tree never hit the ground. Damian's eyes opened, and he blinked in surprise as he felt the tree move. He yelped, tumbling to the floor (he'd still been holding onto the branches) and found himself staring up at Grayson's amused face.

"Need a little help there, Little D?" Grayson questioned, his lips quirked.

"No," Damian snapped. "I was doing just fine."

"Uh-huh," Grayson replied, that infuriating grin still on his face. "You're still holding the star."

"I've decided that we don't need it," Damian retorted. "It's a useless object, that does absolutely nothing for the overall appearance of — dammit Grayson, put me down!"

Damian flailed wildly as Grayson (still smiling, goddammit) hoisted him up.

"There you go!" his brother said, cheerily. "Now you don't have to tip the whole tree over to reach the top."

"I had it under control!" Damian snapped. "And we don't need that hideous star."

Grayson made no move to put him down. Damian's jaw clenched.

"Grayson," he snarled, "put me down this moment or you will not enjoy the consequences."

"Put the star on the top of the tree," Grayson countered, sounding far too amused for Damian's liking.

Damian scowled. "Fine!" he snapped. "But it's because I want you to shut up, not because I can't do it myself."

He placed the star on the top of the tree, and then crossed his arms, scowling. Grayson lowered him to the floor, and ruffled Damian's hair.

"Looks good, kiddo," he said, staring at the tree, a wide grin stretched across his face. "In fact, the whole place looks great. Don't you just love Christmas?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "No," he replied. "It's a foolish holiday. I see no need for it. And Grayson, if you hadn't arrived, I would have found a way to do it myself."

"Of course you would have," Grayson said seriously, nodding his head. His amused expression ruined the effect somewhat. "Now, how about some hot chocolate?"

…

AN:

Okay, so while this was initially going to be a series of drabbles, I realised that it was probably a little late to compile an entire series of mini-fics before Christmas. So, I'm going to be posting any Christmas fics I write individually, and making them a little longer than the initially planned drabble-length. However, it's the same process I mentioned before - if you have any prompts (one word or sentence) for Christmas one-shots you'd like to see written (as long as they somehow relate to the Bat fam) mention them in the comments section :) I've made note of the prompts people mentioned when I posted this previously.