A single cobalt eye twitched, in the most mild of ways, as it's owner watched the sight before him.

It was just…disgusting.

The elder man laid useless acrossed his filthy couch, his long -oh god so very perfect- legs hanging off the side of the filth covered side. His bare toes grazed over the stained beige carpet before curling in on themselves every few seconds. His hands were wrapped around his cell phone. His lips, -how unbearable sweet they must taste- curled in a mirth filled smile.

Disgusting.

Damian's socked feet made no sound as he crossed the living room of his 'eldest brothers' apartment, his eyes never leaving the sight before him. Grayson seemed so distracted he was more then a little sure that he hadn't noticed the slight click his bedroom door had made when the young teen had left to investigate why he had woken alone. -in the same bed, they were in the same bed!- He had hoped that the cretin had been distracted by something only the overly juvenile man could notice, for example children's cartoons, midnight cookie adventures, or perhaps a shiny string. All very plausible scenarios, but noooo, what he found was far worse.

He was on the phone.

In the middle of the night when he should be in bed with him.

Conversing with that man.

A jealous wave was pushed down into the pit of the boy's stomach at the thought. So what if his Grayson was spending their night speaking with Drake. True, it was a waste of the valuable time Damian managed to slip away from his father, but Grayson was an adult and could make his own decisions. It wasn't like Grayson had abandoned him for some circus freak of a woman to travel the country side and hardly saw him anymore. All sarcasm aside, it wasn't like Grayson was really his, -why couldn't he be?- and he did manage to still spend more time with the acrobat then the older teen.

But then his Grayson laughed.

A laugh that made Damian's heart jump into his throat and pound faster then it ever had in his short life. His head seemed to spin, his thoughts fluttering for a moment, a pain in his stomach. How unbearable a feeling it all was, but what was worse was that it hadn't been meant for him. It had been meant for Drake.

And that was simply unacceptable.

With a familiar verbal tic the smaller male covered the space of the living room until he stood beside the couch, startled -so very pretty- blue eyes staring up at him.

"Hold up Timmy," the receiver was moved from his mouth, "what's up little D, bad dream?"

"What are you doing?"

"Tim called and I didn't wanna wake you so I came out here." His arms waved to the dingy apartment ceiling. "You seemed so tired after patrol I figured I'd just let you crash land." A snicker, but it wasn't the same as what he gave Drake. "So, bad dream or no?"

"Tt, how childish can you be?"

The question was all the distraction the small teen needed. While his 'brother' -why brother why?- looked honestly confused he took the opportunity to slide his smaller frame into the crook of the larger form's arm. Damian nuzzled his nose into the man's shoulder, -spandex, leather, and Grayson- and let out a soft content sigh. His thin arms snaked their way around Grayson's neck. He could feel the man's frame stiffen under him, shocked at the sudden show of affection no doubt. It was silent for a few seconds then and for those few seconds the youngest Robin thought he had won.

"Yea, I'm still here."

Devastation washed over him but was quickly replaced with a new burning resolve. Grayson had sounded annoyed. The conversation continued but the small teen easily ignored what they actually spoke about. The only thing he cared about was how that annoyed tone of the larger male slowly turned back to a playful tease.

Not acceptable.

So Damian proceeded to rearrange himself on the body beneath him, making sure he adjusted his weight juuuust right over all the right places. His hips rolled slightly against the acrobats thigh, his chest pressed even closer to the one below him. Once again the frame beneath him froze and a mischievous grin spread acrossed his lips, hidden in Grayson's neck.

A few moments and he relaxed, conversing again in that obnoxious voice of his.

-don't get angry-

Another soft sigh left the boy, but this one was strategically placed against Grayson's Adam's apple. But when Grayson stiffened this time Damian didn't count his blessings early. His nose nudged under the older man's chin, tipping his head up so Damian could nuzzle himself deeper into the flesh there. -sweat never smelled so good- He could feel the man's throat tighten as he swallowed dryly.

"Tim…I…I'll call you back."

A victorious sneer formed as the larger male wrapped his arms warily around the small teen atop him.

And sitting on a small pillow that the boy had brought with him was a sleeping figure. A cat that stretched out in such a familiar way, rearranging it's weight.

-screams-

Based on the Prompt, "All inspired by an offhand "the cat is standing on my face" while trying to talk on the phone and then laughing because Damian is totally cat-like in many ways. So, Damian is jealous and wants Dick to pay attention to HIM, and acts accordingly. Including when Dick is on the phone with Tim. Especially when Dick is on the phone with Tim."

Found here; .?thread=422965#t422965