Thirty Days (A Birdflash Fanfiction)

Day 21: Cooking/Baking

Wally let himself into Dick's apartment to find him wrapped in a blanket and hunched over a pot on the stove. A hand peeked out of the blanket to stir a spoon slowly through the contents.

"You look miserable," Wally commented, shouldering Dick out of the way and taking over the stove. Dick glared at him with narrow red eyes and sniffed loudly.

"Piss off."

Wally brought the spoon to his lips, blew on it and tasted the soup. It was ready, possibly even a touch overdone at this point. "Exactly how long has this been on the stove?" Dick shrugged. Wally turned off the heat and transferred the pot to a cooler position on the stovetop. "You're a mess. You know that, right?"

Dick grumbled at him and slumped into the nearest dining chair. Wally sighed at his theatrics and dug out a nice, big bowl to pour the soup into. He had no idea where Dick kept his soup ladles, or if the man even had one, so he just tipped the pot until enough soup had landed in the bowl. A little soup dribbled over the side of the pot, but he just shrugged and stuck it back on the stove because there were already bits of spilled soup on there anyway.

"This is what happens when you don't get enough sleep and you eat like a teenager," Wally scolded him, breaking up bits of bread and dumping them onto a plate, which he placed beneath the bowl.

"'S not my fault," Dick murmured. "Had to jump in the harbour and save somebody who got thrown in. And it was raining. And cold. And I couldn't find my thermals."

Wally dropped a spoon into the bowl, picked the bowl and plate up and kicked Dick's chair. "Living room. Come on."

Dick reluctantly pulled himself up and followed Wally to the couch, on which he curled up and accepted the food from Wally. Wally dug through Dick's disorganised DVD collection to find something worth watching. Dick often got headaches when he had a cold, so a loud action movie was completely out of the question.

They ended up marathoning some random cooking show that Dick had obviously never watched and it wasn't exactly clear where the DVDs had come from in the first place. Probably one of Alfred's numerous attempts to make Dick give a toss about what he was putting in his mouth. Wally picked up on a few new recipes that sounded nice, and Dick mostly dozed against his shoulder once he was finished with the soup.

"You're a walking disaster," Wally said fondly as Dick drooled on his shirt. "And nobody believes me. Except Alfred, but Alfred knows everything so he doesn't count."

Dick coughed a little in his sleep. Wally watched to the end of the DVD before he laid the man down and ducked upstairs to fetch another blanket. It was a cold night and the heater in Dick's apartment was the shittiest thing known to man. Wally had given up trying to get Dick to move to a better part of town months ago. It was an old argument, and one he didn't really feel like rehashing.

He draped the extra blanket over Dick's snoring form, the other one already wrapped around his body like a cocoon. Wally ducked under the top blanket and squeezed onto the couch. A little extra warmth couldn't hurt.

Dick instinctively melted against him without waking. Wally closed his eyes and settled in for the night.