Baby Damian one-shots

**Damian and the Forbidden Cake**

It was a quiet evening at Wayne Manor, with the sounds of soft rain tapping against the windows and the smell of fresh-baked goods filling the air. Alfred had been busy in the kitchen, preparing one of his famous desserts—chocolate cake, rich and warm, with layers of frosting so thick that it practically begged to be eaten.

Damian, who had spent the day in his room drawing and playing with his Batman toys, had already caught a glimpse of the cake when Alfred had briefly opened the door to check on his work. The small sliver of chocolate had been enough to spark a gleam of interest in the young Wayne's eyes. He had never been one to back down from a challenge, especially when it involved something sweet.

As the evening wore on and the cake cooled, Damian's curiosity grew. It wasn't just any cake—it was *his* cake. Or, at least, that's what he told himself. The rules were clear: dessert was a treat for later, after dinner. But the thought of that smooth, sugary goodness... it was too much for Damian to resist.

"Alfred won't mind," Damian whispered to himself, glancing toward the kitchen door. "He's busy. I'll just have a little bite."

With all the stealth of a tiny shadow, Damian sneaked down the hall, barefoot and silent, his small hands pushing open the door to the kitchen. He tiptoed over to the counter where the cake sat, waiting. It was still in the pan, untouched, looking like a glorious mountain of chocolate waiting to be conquered.

Damian's green eyes sparkled as he reached up, grabbing the edge of the counter with a little grunt. His fingers brushed over the cool surface of the cake, hesitating for just a moment. Then, with a small grin, he took a tiny finger and dipped it into the frosting.

The second his finger met the sweetness, he pulled it away, quickly licking off the frosting with satisfaction. It was everything he'd imagined—decadent, smooth, and utterly irresistible. One taste wouldn't hurt, right?

Before he could take another bite, a voice broke through the quiet.

"Damian."

Damian froze. He turned to find Alfred standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in an expression of mild amusement. His face was calm, but there was a certain twinkle in his eye that suggested he knew exactly what his young charge had been up to.

"Alfred," Damian said, his voice betraying a hint of guilt as he quickly wiped his finger on his sleeve. "I was just... checking to see if it was ready."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, stepping further into the room. "And is it ready?" he asked, his tone still light, but with a subtle edge of humor.

Damian's face flushed a little, but he held his ground. "Yes," he said, his chin raised in a small act of defiance. "It's... very good."

Alfred chuckled, shaking his head as he walked toward the cake. "It is, indeed, very good," he agreed, eyeing the telltale smear of frosting on Damian's cheek. "But I believe there was an agreement. After dinner."

Damian crossed his arms, his usual defiance settling back in. "But I'm hungry now," he insisted. "I want it."

Alfred's smile softened, but he didn't relent. "Patience, Master Damian. All in good time. You'll have your cake. But you must learn that some things are worth waiting for."

Damian stared at the cake, his small hands still hovering near it. He wanted it so badly, but Alfred's words made him pause. As much as he hated to admit it, Alfred had a point. The cake would taste even better once it was time for it.

"Fine," Damian muttered, stepping back. "I'll wait."

Alfred's expression softened further. "Good lad. Now, come along. Let's get you cleaned up before dinner, shall we?"

Damian reluctantly followed Alfred out of the kitchen, casting one last glance at the cake as they left the room. As much as he hated waiting, he knew he'd get his reward. And, as he toddled off to wash his hands, his mind already drifted to what he would do when he finally had that first slice of chocolate cake, warm and perfect.

And maybe, just maybe, next time, he wouldn't be so sneaky. Or at least, he would wait until after dinner.