The Little Brother Tax
Kanene's notes: WHO IS EXCITED FOR THE FINAL CHAPTER? :DDD Guys I am just so happy because I finally - finally - was able to solve a daunting chore that was stressing me out for weeks!!! I just had to post this chapter as a celebration. Hope y'all like it!!!
Warnings: There's some light angst here and there, but nothing strong. Platonic A/B/O AU. Ticklish Jason Todd and Ler Dick Grayson. Around 4.000 words.
[~*~]
“hrghj?”
“Yeah, yeah, dickface, go back to sleep.”
Dick’s eyes were clouded, blinking slowly as he stared at his face, possibly result of a mix of exhaustion and the heavier anesthetics Alfred had to use this time. Thankfully his scent recognition was not impaired, otherwise he would not be taking so calmly to being woken up out of nowhere and no amount of Jason’s calm pheromones would save him from getting punched in the face with their training.
The older’s scent held the sick misery of wet chalk, but even so Dick gave Jason a weak purr as his eyes began to close and his body went lax as he let himself fall into a slumber once again, satisfied that no danger was near.
Jason tsked as his older brother instinctively turned his head to seek the comfort of his scent and he quickly – but careful of his bruises – brushed softly his wrist across Dick’s cheeks and head, receiving another short, happy purr for it.
He bit back the pleased rumble that wanted to answer him and instead focused on separating the necessary materials from the emergency nest pile locked in one of their cabinets. Today’s patrol was chaotic enough that he was sure no more bats would be coming down to the medbay for the rest of the night, except for Alfred, who Jason would take over either the Replacement, the Demon Brat or – God forbid – the Big Bat at any given day.
(Alfred probably already knew he was there and would help keep the others away, even.)
Separating the best feeling blankets and the structurally sound pillows was both incredibly anxiety inducing and natural. Jason ignored how thrilled he used to be about building nests before, he pushed away all the bitter memories of the days he spent reading books about it in the library, chest full of hope and wonder at finally being able to try out every technique the books talked about. The days he had spent spreading mock nests all across the manor like second nature.
Jason growled, forcefully focusing on the task at hand before the memories swallowed him whole.
(If anyone saw him kneading the blankets like a scaredy puppy he would start shooting.)
He began spreading the flat pillows that would be the base of the healing nest around Dick, carefully exuding more calm-sleepy-safe scent as he snuck a couple of them under his brother, chittering in exasperated admonishment as Dick kept trying to pull him into his usual octopus hug, even asleep.
“This would be so much better if I could use it blackmail you latter,” he pushed (not as hard as he could, honestly) his arm out of another grab made in his direction, quickly scenting Dick on his head again with safe-here-sleep when the other whined despondently at him. “But of course, you have no sense of shame.”
Sacrificing one of the scented plushies he brought (no he would not say from who they are and no he will not confess owning them, shut up) to his old nestmate, Jason turned to the other side of the bed and arranged the short walls and crevices with enough space to hold two large bodies (for when the Replacement or the Demon Brat came down hidden in the middle of the night and for that only, of course, of course), mindful of Dick’s injuries as he lifted his limbs to coax a couple of the thinnest pillows and airier blankets under him.
Jason doesn’t know how much time passed until it all was finally done.
Nest building was both the easiest and most tax consuming thing his body could ask of him. It took a conscious effort to make his mind focus on the task, to pry the tight hold he kept on his instincts, even if only to let them feel where each and every clothe and fabric must go to feel “right” as the same time he had to keep pushing off the intrinsically terror of being slipping and losing himself once more to them.
Besides, making a Healing Nest took an extra amount of concentration that usually are only dedicated to the built of a Pack or Private Nest, except those usually were a constant work of adaptation that went beyond a single day or night, following the individual across the years, being adapted, built and rebuilt, never left unchanged.
A Healing Nest needed to be perfectly balanced, with the pack’s strongest scents closer to the walls to placate the instincts that screamed a need of protection for their fallen packmate and the younger (usually their littermates) scents snuggled the closest to the hurt individual, all while the scents had to be strong enough to camouflage the hurt smell slipping in the patient’s scent.
It was a necessary balance that had to soothe the person and every underline pheromone had to emanate some kind of tranquil, safe feeling to prevent throwing the person even further into a spiral of stress, which in theory is easy but much harder to balance outside the paper.
Maybe it was because he was so much lost in those thoughts as he kept his breathing exercises and adjustments of an annoying pillow that Jason didn’t realize the pair of very attentive, watching eyes clued on him. Maybe it was because he honestly forgot to keep attentive when Dick let him work peacefully after Jason dodged a third lunge. Maybe some unconscious part of him remembered about all those years ago.
Nevertheless, in one second Jason was preoccupied in giving the healing nest its final touches and the other he was being pounced and dragged into it before he could scramble away.
“Fucking hell, Dick.” His voice was tight, his heart beating erratically and the only reason he didn’t counterattack the sudden movement was because he had just taken a bath and was wearing his civilian clothes. All his hidden knives were placed on a special compartment on his boots, far enough that his hindbrain registered the comforting, needy scent of Dick (family-pack-care-love-nestmate) before his hand could press in the hidden slot and take the weapon out.
His only answer was a satisfied, loud motor-engine purr as Dick buried his nose on his hair and inhaled his scent. His arms locked around him, which kept him on the here and now with a side effect of not let him get away, literally.
“Urg,” Jason wiggled minutely, confirming that, yep, he was not getting out of this hug. Dick chirped contently, not unlike a small, happy puppy which – as the 79kg grown ass basically burying him under his weight and all the comforters he pulled from the pile to hide them - he was definitely not. “Piss off, fatass, you’re gonna crush me.”
His older brother continued to groom him unrepentantly, the only interruptions of his stupid smug purring was a quiet growl each time he found some stubborn knot or when he decided Jason was not yet completely doused in his protective scent and decided to rub his chin on his head and coat him even more in his scent, which renewed his growling because the nuzzling undid his careful work of detangling his hair.
Instincts were just the stupidest thing, sometimes.
The odds that he was fully conscious and simply elated to ignore Jason or that he was genuinely still completely lost to it due the pain meds were pretty equal. Jason huffed.
Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from melting, bit by bit, each time Dick’s fingers travelled from the top of his head, careful with his locks, and continued to his nape, giving it heavenly scratches before he rubbed his way back up his head and repeated the cycle, softly playing with his hair, then carefully guiding comforting shivers from his nape to the rest of his back.
A small part of his soul, that same one that clung to the memory of those rainy evenings when they used to snuggle in the Manor’s pack nest and roughhoused in the animated ways pups did, wanted to whine.
It yearned, soft and vulnerable, metaphorically wishing to just roll over and show Dick all the raw bruises he still concealed under their blocked bond, so his nestmate could take care of them as well.
(Childishly, youngly. Jason missed his pack so damn much sometimes.)
Jason was quick to swallow that urge and lock it up far away before his hindbrain could get any ideas. He chittered warningly when Dick’s hand got too close to his scarred neck and the older alpha relaxed his hug with a submissive whine.
“Shut up.” Jason tsked, adjusting himself so he was the one embracing Dick, who purred contently and went completely lax, happy that the other was not trying to go away anymore. Discreetly, Jason also nosed his hair, scenting him with calm-heal-protected. “You’re the one who needs to heal, stupid.”
Lost to the world, Dick’s loud purrs lost some of their strength (going from motor-loud to just loud) as he turned his head to snuggle further under Jason’s chin, finally placated and still, his tired body charging the sudden bout of energy as it pulled him under a heavy sleep. For once, his pheromones calmed down and let the mix of his pack’s scents take over the nest and the room, hiding him in his vulnerability.
Jason took his place for the vigil and sighed, feeling something loosening in his chest at the familiar awareness of watching the room as his nestmate slept fell over him.
In little ways, some things didn’t really change, huh?
(…)
Dick yawed, drowsily as he pulled himself from his slumber. He felt strangely well-rested. It’s been… forever, since he woke up from such a heavy sleep. Still blinking his eyes open, trying to get them accustomed with the room, his senses acknowledged the safe smell of his entire pack and for a confusing second Dick wondered if Bruce’s overprotectiveness really went against Alfred’s orders and the omega sneaked on the medbay in the middle of the night to move him to the Den.
But no, he was still on the Cave. So how…
A faint rumble registered under him and Dick couldn’t help but take a deep inhale of the overly familiar scent of books, a smell that was both frigid cold and blazingly warm, like sitting in front of a fireplace with a book as an unforgiving snowstorm raged outside, a green acid bubbling in the underlayer of it.
It made his throat dry and his eyes mist.
Jason.
The purr that exploded from his chest was almost all consuming. It was needy and happy and full of longing all at the same.
That was his first nestmate, his grief, his lateness, his absence, his littermate from another parent, his most grave mistake, his pup, his little brother.
Jason curled more around him, clearly asleep. The knowledge that if he woke up, he would most certainly get away and escape to his safehouse singlehanded made Dick hold back the calling yips that kept trying to greet his little brother and hear his answering calls.
But maybe some part of him still did it without his permission, because Jason, even asleep, gave a faint chirp and nuzzled once his throat, curled even further on his space, bulk and muscles hiding him from outside in a way that made his inner alpha preen.
Such a good nestmate, very good pup, keeping his pack safe.
He decided to enjoy the silence, nesting closer to his little brother and letting the quietness soothe any bruises that still lingered in their bonds and their souls.
(…)
Dick, with a herculean effort, endured exactly half an hour before the sheer amount of tediousness left him jittery. Gone was the first wave of softness that held his mind when he woke up for the third time and Jason still gave no signals to stirring up from his own sleep. Something more… agitated (playful) sung, bubbling from the corner of his smile to the restlessness of his fingertips as memories appeared on his mind.
Weeeell.
It wasn’t like Jason didn’t know the rules.
If you went to your big brother’s nest and was unfairly adorable, it was only fair you paid your Lil Bro Tax.
(Besides, soon enough Alfred would be coming down to check on him and bringing down breakfast, which would officially open the doors to the other members of the manor to come down as well and as much as Dick would love to extend such rare cuddle time further, he knew Jason would not appreciate having such a moment displayed to the rest of the family yet.)
(Really, his little brothers were so lucky to have such a good, charitable, attentive old brother like him.)
Softly, Dick ran the tip of his fingers across Jason’s back, barely touching as he calmly let his short nails slowly rank up and down, observant of any batted breath or twitch from the other, curious to assess just how ticklish Jason still was.
The middle of his back, closest of his hands at first, didn’t give him much answer, however, just as he decided to tap lightly on the back of his ribs a huff greeted him. Quickly, Dick jumped away from the spot and waited with closed eyes and carefully controlled his breathing, attentive to any further movement from Jason, tampering down the joyful bout of excitement that kept trying to sneak from him through their bond.
When nothing else happened, Dick risked opening his eyes again, smiling happily at the soundly asleep brother that clutched him close. In a blink, he passed his wrist carefully on his hair, scenting him with little brother-safe-happy-thanks.
But his research was not yet complete and Bruce taught them well to always be diligent, ruthless and final when searching for the answer of a mystery.
Once again he rested his hand on the middle of Jason’s back, taking advantage of the neutral point to plan his next target thoughtfully. With small “steps”, Dick sluggish spidered his way to Jason’s lower back. His touch was light, only two fingers poking the line of his spine until he arrived to his destiny and could freely move his hands back and forth the spot, calmly dragging just his fingertips from one side to another, drawing senseless shapes and lazy zig zags on the ticklish skin.
His hunt proved itself successful when another huff escaped the other, Jason’s arms clutching him closer as he tried to curl himself but was stopped by Dick, who was still plastered under his chin, a gruffy grumble leaving him when Dick stopped his ministrations until he relaxed once again.
Which was perfect. Because it meant that not only Jason was still his dearest, wiggliest, cutest lil tickly-ticklish puppy but also that he hadn’t grown out of impersonating a pillbug each time he was tickled which was just most adorable thing ever and as his very good, very charitable old brother, Dick just had to take advantage of it.
Oof, the weight of his duty.
As the saying goes, with great powers came great responsabilitickles or something like that.
Lastly – but not less important - Dick skittered his fingers gently right under one of his shoulder blades, remembering just much of a bad spot this used to be for tasering and such, which never failed to make Jason screech the loudest of the snorts before falling in breathless crackles every single time.
A quiet noise that sounded suspiciously like a muffled giggle greeted him and Dick was very careful to not let the shit-eating grin he felt forming show in his face.
His hand hovered just above the spot.
Dick waited with a baited breath.
One second.
Two seconds
Three…
A small, almost imperceptive twitch away from his hands.
There.
That's when Dick descended. With only two fingers, he pressed on the tickle spot and vibrated like the entire destiny of humankind depended on creating the loudest shriek in the entire universe.
Jason spasmed, instinctively trying to shot up away from the tickles but being prevented by the blankets and very clingy older brother clued on him. A cutting, high pitched squeal just a few notches below breaking the sound barrier left his mouth as he sputtered confusedly, suddenly wide awake.
Soon realization downed on him. Wheezy, booming laughter cut the space, his arms coming to clutch at Dick’s shoulders as the older kept drilling on the tickle spot restlessly. “DIHIHIHIHICK!!”
“Time for my little brother tax!” Dick sing-songed in answer, laughing together with his nestmate before he changed his technique to pepper a thousand of nimble, soft and lightning-fast pinches in between Jason’s shoulder blades, as if it was his life time mission to get the most flustered, yipping snickers from him. Each sound so squeaky that it left Jason’s head reeling in dizzy, flustered confusion. It’s been years since he laughed freely like that.
Especially as Dick decided to be teasy little shit as well.
“Awww, is someone still sensitive? Is that iiiit? Is my little bwother a twickle-twickle-twickle-twicklish puppy. Huh, huh, huh, is heeee?”
The screech pried from Jason’s lips was loud.
“SHUHUHUHDAPP!” Now the blush travelled from the bridge across his nose to the tip of his ears, voice jumping from high squeals to growly giggles that were the most endearing thing ever. “IHIHIHI’M GONNA FUCKING DEHEHESTROY YOU AHAHAFTER THIS!”
Dick whistled low, unable to stop his sworn duty as an older brother to poke the bear and gloat a little in smugness. “Better to make sure you’re all tickled out then, right?”
True to his words, Dick stopped his nibbling pinches and plastered his hands in form of claws on the back of Jason’s ribs, barely giving him the time to realize what was going to happen and curse loudly before he began digging. Thumbs drilled and buzzed on his highest ribs while the other fingers crawled to the front to tease the border of his armpits, which made Jason let go of his shoulders and clamp his arms to the side in a poor attempt to fend off those wiggling hands.
Of course, since his target was being so fiercely protective and Dick – contrary of what the unfair rumors spread by ticklish little birds said - was a merciful, good older brother, he had no other option but to change his course and tickle that absurdly weak spot Jason had between his armpits and back, scratching and scribbling across it over and over again until his nestmate was a wheezing mess.
Stumbling, laughing words spilled incoherently from Jason’s lips. The unexpected change of attack made Jason snort, air stilling for a second in surprise before raucous crackles, wheezy squeals gleefully mixed with his laughter in a manner that only made his blush worse each time it happened.
Something that was not helped by the oozing fondness dancing in Dick’s scent, bright as day no matter how much Jason curled or squirmed away from it, each time he buried himself further on his brother only serving to make his tickles more energetic and the fond coos resonating on their dulled bond louder, while pushing himself back on the tickles only served to make his back more vulnerable to the tickly ministrations and worsen his fate.
Each wiggle presented the perfect opportunity for Dick to spare a couple of fingers to tase the border of his armpits and then follow by kneading and clawing skillfully across every single weak spot on the back of his ribcage, going up and down in a way that made Jason’s laughter change from uncontrollable wheezing to gruffy chortles.
Just as his nestmate was beginning to grow used to the sensation, Dick jumped to his spine, hands spidering across its length, giving each single one of his vertebras a good prodding before jumping to another.
Loud laughter gave space to squeaky huffs and puffs that made his shoulders tremble as Dick’s fingers playfully climbed to the top of his back, tippity-tapping teasingly on the back of his neck before they washed down back to the base of his spine.
After some failed attempts – because Dick decided to live up to his name and kept fucking tasering under his shoulder blades and prying another screeching shriek each time Jason opened his mouth to say anything, dialing back to his normal tickle attack only when he was sure his little brother was completely lost in booming laughter once more – Jason was finally able to wheeze out a “STOHOHOHOPPIT!”
“Hmmm,” Dick pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, Little Wing. Something tells me you will just get your revenge when I stop, which means I’m gonna lose all those cute lil bro giggles AND get tickled to the very death… Not much advantage from my viewpoint, is there?”
Challenge glinted in those bright, teary eyes, the only warning Dick got as a gigantic smile in Jason’s expression took over a sharper edge “FUHUHUNNY OF YOHOHOU TO THINK I WHAHAHAS ASKING!”
In a blink Jason’s hands clasped on Dick’s arms he pushed, which automatically activated Dick’s octopus mode and resulted in him clinging for dear life onto his brother, coiling his limbs around him with a pitiful nooo-apology-stay-playful! whine that was mirrored across their bond. With another forceful push it soon became a mischievous and equally challenging growl as both rolled around in the small nest, jabbing elbows and hands scrambling for purchase of any tickle spot available.
The following game of roughhousing had the unfortunate consequence of riding up Jason’s shirt, a priceless opportunity presented in a silver plate Dick, who didn’t even hesitate for a second before he quickly dove his hands under it. Soon, there was scratching and skittering tickles gracing directly every centimeter of Jason’s lower back.
It was the worst kind of attack. Just a flock of light, soft tickles that seemed to tease directly each one of his nerves and bring out the giddiest kind of titters that seemed as if they left buzzing, tingling little shocks wherever they went and never failed to turn him into a tittering, embarrassed mess.
Under the new wave of tickles, Jason sputtered half protests and muffled swears before his poorly contained low chuckles grew to a flustered flurry of fast-paced giggles that made him try to curl himself in a ball. With Dick still under his chin, he was only successful in burying his face on his hair, entire body shaking with his snickers.
It was a valiant and senseless – but still adorable and heartwarming all the same - attempt to muffle the uncontrollable giggling that only grew more and more pronounced and airy as Dick continued to draw senseless shapes in the back of his sides and sneaked a couple of gentle pinches on his hips just to catch a few surprised yelps before letting him fall back to the giggly titters. Not a single inch of his lower back was left before gaining its deserved round of scribbling, spidering and wiggling fingers.
Carefully, Dick tapped on their shared bond, going almost boneless with relaxation when all he got was happy-flustered-joy-annoyed-safe feelings reflected from Jason’s side, which sounded much less muted that they used too ever since Jason got back. His own scent sparkling with happy fireworks and shared train-diving moments.
It was only due that dazed contentment that Dick didn’t react when a hesitant kneading started on the back of his shirt. With a batted breath, he forced himself to not react and pull attention to Jason’s seemingly instinct show of comfort and attention, the younger stopping briefly for a second, as if only realizing now what he was doing.
Dick let his hands continue his soft and light tickling in an attempt to distract the other from any hesitation that was filling his mind in this moment.
Hope and excitement began to blossom in his chest as – after some seconds with nothing more – his nestmate gave him a minute nuzzle followed by more rhythmic, light kneading continued on his back. The moment felt as precious as the first time – years ago, when their brotherhood was still tentative and on their first steps – that Jason gave him his first “happy biscuits” ever, finally happy and relaxed on the Den’s nest after a movie night and a successful patrol.
The rumbles that exploded out from Dick’s chest were booming and unashamed, more than happy to project his joy as rambunctiously as possible so Jason didn’t feel embarrassed as he answered back with a couple of his own faint purrs.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long before he hears the telltale of purposely loud and slow footsteps descending to the cave. Tampering down a protesting, possessive growl from his inner alpha, Dick starts to squeeze Jason’s side in short, impossible to ignore tickly bursts until he was jumping out of the nest with an annoyed (almost pouty) snarl, quickly adjusting his hair and clothes just as Alfred appeared on the medbay, a breakfast tray on his hand, perfectly arranged with enough food for two.
“Good morning, Master Jason, Master Dick.” He didn’t seem surprised at Jason’s decision to stay, but there was a fondness in the crinkle of the corner of his eyes when he assessed the healing nest around Dick and gave Jason a short, approving nod. “Let’s take a look at those healing bruises now, shall we?”
[~*~]
Fun Facts and Extras!
Jason is actually a true and 100% SOFTIE! His purrs are raspy and rumbly but when he very very veeery relaxed they can gwo loud like an engine (which makes him want to hide them at first)
He has some aggressive nuzzling when he is feeling affectionate, younger than Dick when he was adopted, still hadn’t grown out of making “biscuits” when he is feeling safe and when being tickled too <3
Btw I am here leaving it to your imagination just whether Jason was awake when Dick began to tickle him and just pretended to be asleep the whole time or if he was truly sleeping during the lighter tickles
I like to imagine Jason having those more breathless-like kind of laughter that are momentarily broken by a couple of squeaky giggling, ya know? Can’t explain it very well but it fits him very nicely in my mind
Jason, in the beginning of the fic: Dick is hurt I GUESS I have to be gentle with him. Just this once
Dick: a
Jason: So you’ve chosen violence
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