Chapter Text
Demetrius
“I–UGH–s-stupid, commoner peasant–” more incoherent mumbles.
Demetrius turned to the source of the furious muttering. He turned, confused, to find his little brother redder than the inside of his Imperial Scholar cape.
“Dames? Good, you’re here, Jeeves is almost–” Damian largely ignored his brother’s greeting in favor of pacing back and forth and grumbling.
“What are you so worked-up about?” Demmy blinked, putting a hand on Damian’s unusually sweaty hair. He only ever got like this when he was really upset…or really flustered. Oddly enough, the kid didn't acknowledge the head-pat. Usually, he soaked up affection like a little sponge. Maybe he was embarrassed? They were at school after all...
They were waiting for the limousine to pick them up after school, as there was some sort of dance-thing going on for the grade ones.
Really, only Damian had to be going home – to figure out his dress attire – but Demetrius wanted to tag-along, mostly for teasing purposes.
“N-nothing’s worked me up! I’m fine. It’s fine. Back off, Demetrius!” He shouted, startling a group of pigeons on a pillar behind them.
“Ohh-kay, dude, jeez.” He scoffed. He may not have been the most socially adept person in the world – he’d only ever made two friends, one of them his best friend’s girlfriend! – but he wasn’t blind.
Something was up.
And he thought he might know why.
“Damian,” Demmy tried again, gentler this time. “Is this about a certain pink-haired classmate?”
“W-what! H-how–” The way the kid’s eyes bulged, you’d think he was one of those squishy toys one could win at the carnival. And this was coming from Demetrius. The big-eyed person.
“It’s okay if you’re embarrassed. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Screw that veneer of unobtrusiveness, Demmy was really hoping Damian would tell him.
After finding out that Pinky punched him, he was morbidly curious to know how the girl stole his heart. Was it because of the punch? Was it a strength thing? Coercion? (very unlikely, as they were both six-year-olds), but hey, anything was possible.
Especially when you and your mother suspect your dad is a mind-reading alien.
There seemed to be some internal war being waged in his little brother's head. Squirming, Damian shook his head and whispered to himself some more.
…This was getting kind of concerning.
“Dami,” Demetrius kneeled so he could make eye-contact with the boy. “You're having some big feelings right now, aren’t you?”
Staring at the cobblestone path below, Damian gave him the smallest of nods.
Sometimes, Demetrius forgot the boy was only six. With the way he acted, he seemed much older most of the time. Especially when he was doing brave things like standing up for his friends on hijacked buses. And having (unknowingly fake) bombs strapped to him by terrorists.
Yeah, Dami slept next to him for a very long time after that incident, because of his nightmares. For his heroic acts after the bus hijacking, the faculty made an exception and let him sleep in the Imperial Scholar dorms with Demetrius. Sometimes, he'd still wake up in the morning and find a bit of extra weight on his shoulder. For Dami feeling safe, a little clavicle pain was worth it.
“Promise you won’t laugh?” At Demmy’s nod, the kid shuffled closer to his brother, cupping his hands over his ear. “Anya asked me to dance.”
The words tumbled out in a rush, and immediately afterwards, Damian turned away from him. His face was turning a rather astounding shade of puce.
Demetrius worked very hard to keep his face expressionless. A usually easy feat considering his social…struggles. “Well…that’s something.” He managed, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
“Shut up!” Damian grumbled. “It isn’t anything. I said no anyway.”
“Really–?” Demetrius couldn’t help stuttering. “But don’t you have a crush on–”
“Who on earth gave you that idea?!” Damian squeaked, somehow turning redder than Demetrius thought humanly possible. “I HATE THAT WORTHLESS PEASANT.”
“Uh huh.” Demmy now had to fight exceptionally hard to keep his face neutral.
Damian crossed his arms. “You can’t even be talking, anyway! I’ve seen that red-haired girl shout at you! You’re a weakling.”
Um. That was a kind of unexpected rebuttal. How did Damian even know Violet Bridgers?
And why, today of all days, was Jeeves taking so damn long to reach them?!
Demetrius couldn’t hold back a startled laugh. Because, what?
Damian shot him an affronted look. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me, LIAR. I’m never telling you anything again!” More pigeons fled the deserted courtyard. They were truly lucky so many children left early for preparations today, or else they truly would have been a sight to behold.
This was ridiculous. Demetrius really didn’t understand people. Why did emotions have to be so…complicated?
“Dami, I didn’t mean to laugh at you, I was just…um…” His brother gave him a shockingly hard glare for a six-year-old. “Ah. I’m just gonna shut up.”
“A wise move, Master Demmy.” Jeeves seemed to have popped out from nowhere. The usual butler magic tricks.
“How long have you been standing there?” Mumbled Damian, eyeing the limousine warily.
“Let’s not dwell on that, young masters.” So, for all of it. Demetrius felt his ears heat up. “How about we get home? Lunch will have gone cold by now.”
Why was this man so stealthy? Demetrius wouldn’t be surprised if it came out that he was some sort of spy-operative one day.
Jeeves had busted his late-night studying sessions enough times for it to be plausible. Or, maybe that was just because he always forgot to point his reading light downwards.