Damian liked to bake.
He's not sure when this whole thing caught on, and no one - but Alfred, of course, - knows about his new found obsession. In his free time, when he's out, Damian likes to take magazines from stores, and check out every recipe that catches his eye.
Then he demands right away, that Alfred must bring him all the ingredients for a certain recipe that he wants to try out. Mainly desserts is what Damian likes to make. Alfred doesn't complain about Damian's request, and gathers everything for him, and a part of him is actually proud of the boy. He isn't killing anything. He's doing a harmless activity. An activity that he's actually quite embarrassed of, and he told the man that he better not tell anyone. It seemed too.. Girlish, to him. But it's fun, and he likes the fact that he can do something perfect. Everything has to be perfect.

It started out with cupcakes.
It was late at night, Dick had already gone to bed, they were done with patrol, and Damian couldn't get to sleep. He wondered off to the kitchen, in search of a late night snack, and he found a cupcake tray, and thought why not, it should be easy following instructions. It was amazing that he didn't burn down the kitchen.
The following morning, after Dick had woken up, he asked who made the cupcakes, and Damian just shrugged and said that maybe it was Alfred who made them.

And now, being brought back to present time, where Damian is sneaking into the kitchen at night after a long day, where any normal person should be asleep in bed at this time.
He opens the fridge silently, and leans down to see what great things he's going to make tonight. He actually really likes successfully baking things. It's a hobby of his, something he's good at. Looking into the fridge at his options, Damian decided, maybe tonight he'd make something simple; cheesecake.
As he started gathering the necessary things he needed, he heard footsteps padding into the kitchen. Straightening up, he turned to the side, and saw Dick standing in the doorway. Rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, Damian, what are you doing?" He asked, with a yawn.

Damian stopped dead in his tracks, and his eyes drifted to the bag of sugar in his hands, and the graham cracker pie crust. Surely, he looked convincing. He didn't say anything, but Dick blinked his eyes a few times, like as the seconds passed, he woke up more. He tilted his head, pointing towards the ingredients in Damian's hands, "Oh, are you going to make something? I didn't know you knew how to bake or anything."

Damian wasn't sure if he should tell Dick to get the hell out, or what. "O-Oh." Placing the things back in the fridge, Damian shrugged, "I don't know." He said, shutting the fridge.

"Are you embarrassed?" Dick asked, giving that obnoxiously annoying grin that Damian hated so much. "Are you going to be a little cook?" He teased, poking a finger at him. Damian could already imagine it. If he was actually in the process of baking anything, and wearing an apron - Damian likes wearing aprons when he's baking. It makes him feel professional, - surely, Dick would find all sorts of fun teasing him.
"Huh, huh, Damian?" He smiled, nudging him. He came up, and wrapped his arms around him from behing. Damian felt like he was being choked.

"Stop it!" He shouted, before Dick brought his hands to cover his mouth, shushing him.

"Dude, it's like, two in the morning. Keep your voice down." When Damian nodded, Dick uncovered his mouth.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Dick shrugged, "Couldn't sleep."

"Oh."

Dick moved over to the kitchen table, hopping up on a stool. He swayed a bit, holding onto the edge of the table. "So, do you want me to help you make something?"

"No, I don't want you helping me with anything." Damian said, flashing him a look, one that was just screaming killing you in my mind.

Frowning, Dick went on, "Well, can I at least watch you make something?"

Damian sighed deeply, "Sure, why not." He opened the fridge back up, and retrieved again the ingredients he needed. He placed them on the table, and Dick smiled, resting his elbows near them. He leaned forward a bit, watching Damian closely.

"This is cute. You're like, what, ten, and you can cook."

"Shut up, Grayson." Damian muttered, unwrapping the tin pan that held the graham cracker pie crust, he looked up at him for a short second, barely making eye-contact, "And I'm not ten. I'm thirteen."

"Close enough."

"No."

The rest of the time putting the cheese cake together, Dick minded, and stayed completely quiet as he silently observed Damian. He watched him with a smile, cupping his cheeks in the palms of his hands. He found it absolutely adorable that Damian was doing everything on his own. Once Damian was done with the cheese cake, he put it in the fridge to sit. "Should be a bit before it's ready." He said, stretching. He was actually getting a little tired now.

"Until then, I think you should sleep, you little baker, you~" Dick hopped off the stool he was sitting on, and walked over to Damian, squinting and pinching his cheeks. "You're so cute."

Damian groaned, leaning back, away from his reach, "I am not."

"Sure, you are." Dick smiled, and before he left the kitchen, he pressed a small kiss to Damian's cheek. "Goodnight- Or, morning." And he walked out of the kitchen.

Damian's cheeks flushed, and he took the sleeve of his shirt, wiping at his cheek quickly.

And later on that day, he snuck up to Dick's bedroom, leaving a plate of cookie's infront of his door.