a/n: Prompt five! So I know next to nothing about soccer, and I think that's probably made fairly obvious in the fic. I just tried to make Damian as clueless as I was. And also, I love some Dami&Dick bonding, so that was thrown in. I promise I wasn't aiming for angst! It just keeps happening. Kind of like my trend of making Damian a main character in every drabble I do for this writing challenge. Whoops.

Last thing: I don't know much about Cass, other than the fact that she reads body language really well and that she has trouble speaking. I just really love what I've seen of her in other fics, so I tried to incorporate her here.

Bonus thing: Thanks so much for the reviews/favorites/follows! It really motivates me to keep posting, and I love you guys for that.

Damian was on the couch when they entered, earphones in and sketchpad open. Dick gleefully launched himself at his younger brother, hopping over the back of the couch at just the right angle to completely invade Damian's personal space while avoiding the sketchbook in his lap. Titus, who was curled up on the rug by Damian's feet, was much too used to this type of behavior, and merely flicked an ear up in acknowledgement. Damian, also used to this type of behavior, scowled at his older brother, then flicked his eyes to the doorway. Dick followed his gaze and smiled.

It was one of the rare days that Jason decided to bond with his brothers rather than fight, and he was currently draped over a resistant Tim, who was doing his best to keep a checkered ball out of Jason's clutches. Titus perked up, clearly intrigued, and Dick leaned over to pluck an earbud out of Damian's ear.

"Hey little D, we're going to go play a game of soccer with the girls. Wanna join?" Dick leaned out of range as Damian swatted in his direction, but did not relinquish the stolen earbud.

"Grayson, are you daft?" Damian was giving his a suspicious look, as though he thought Dick was trying to test him. "Eleven players are required per team. You do not have the resources, even with all the inhabitants of this house."

Dick grinned at the boy. "It's just an informal game, Dami. We're splitting into groups of three; one person will be the goalie for each team, and the other two will run like hell and try to score by any means necessary."

"Any means?" Jason drawled from the doorway.

"Within reason," Dick stressed, sounding very much like he'd had that conversation many times before.

Damian looked over at the ball doubtfully.

"C'mon Dami," Dick wheedled, completing the persuasion with puppy dog eyes. "You can even be on my team. We're the best, remember?"

Dick was sure Damian was going to say yes—the little scrunch of his nose gave it away—but then Jason spoke up.

"Let's go, Dickiebird! I'm such Princess Damian is above playing in the field with such commoners. I bet Tim and I can play a person short and still kick your ass!"

Instead of the rash response Dick was expecting, Damian settled with plucking his earbud out of Dick's hand and gathering his art supplies.

"I do not wish to join you," he stated coolly, snobbishly, before leaving the room. Titus stayed behind, clearly understanding that the boys were about to head outside and looking eager to join them. He aided Jason in the quest of liberating the soccer ball from Tim, earning a loud whoop from both boys, then scampered toward the door.

"He is embarrassed." Dick jumped at the quiet voice, then turned to see Cass standing behind the couch. She smirked slightly, clearly smug that she got the better of him, before rounding the couch and sitting beside him.

"Who? Damian?" A nod. "Why?"

Cass gave him a pointed look that expressed more than she would ever be comfortable with saying. Dick remained oblivious, shrugging helplessly under her gaze. Finally, she sighed.

"He does not know how."

"To play soccer?" A nod. "That doesn't matter! I already told him, we're not playing a formal—" and then Dick got it.

Damian didn't want to play because he was trained to be perfect, and he was scared that he was going to make a fool of himself while trying something new. The kid didn't understand that it wasn't a game of skill, that it was just for fun. Dick sighed and shook his head. Steph had warned him that Damian didn't quite grasp the concept of what fun was, but Dick kept forgetting exactly what that meant. The realizations like these were what broke Dick's heart, over and over again. He sighed again, then stood.

"Tell Jay and Timmy that it'll be another few minutes, will you? I'm gonna go round up our sixth player." Cass smiled, then rose as well.

"Good luck," she told him, amused. He rolled his eyes at her cheek, then started up the stairs.

Damian was on his bed, back against the headboard. His earphones were still in, and his sketchpad was still open, but he wasn't focused on either item anymore. One head idly stroked Alfred, who was curled up against the boy's side, and Damian's attention was on the window overlooking the backyard.

Jason and Tim were still squabbling over the ball, getting rowdier as Titus jumped and barked and attempted to outsmart them both. Steph was to the side, laying in the grass and propping herself up on her elbows. She was alternating between laughing at the trio and digging in a cup to scoop out chunks of ice, periodically throwing them into the fray. Cass was just joining the group, choosing to settle in by Steph, with a new cup of ice water in her hand. Dick smiled at the picture that they made, then sat lightly on the edge of the bed, jerking Damian out of his stupor.

"What are you doing, Grayson?" the little boy grumbled. "They are waiting for you to join them."

Dick scooted closer, then wrapped his brother in a hug. Per usual, Damian made a show of resisting his brother's hold; also per usual, the attempt was halfhearted, and Damian didn't break Dick's relatively flimsy grip.

"I'd really like if you played with us," Dick murmured, pulling back a little. "Jason's a sore loser, he's not going to like unequal teams."

"It seems as though he approves of the idea now," Damian muttered, eyes drifting to the window before snapping back to Dick. It was obvious that Damian wanted to join, and the fact that he held himself back from something he so obviously wanted broke Dick's heart a little. Dick covered up his affection with a snort.

"That's because he still thinks he stands a chance at winning. Believe me, you haven't seen him lose a match yet. We need equal teams."

"Grayson, I will not be a handicap." Damian sat up straighter with this proclamation, his expression becoming far too stern for a boy his age. "I will not be looked down on for my lack of practice in this inane activity. I was bred for perfection, and I will not take this condescension, all over a stupid game."

"Dami, no one is trying to be condescending. We want you to join in! Plus, soccer's easy. You just kind of kick the ball in the direction of the opponent goal and hope for the best. Besides, it's only Cass's second time playing, and I'm betting Jason's already recruited her for his team, so we'll be evenly matched if you play for me!"

Damian considered it for a moment, his expression softening. Then he looked up with newfound determination.

"You have requested me, Grayson." Bewildered, Dick nodded. "That means that I am not responsible for any losses that may occur for your team." He hesitated slightly. "I do have a working knowledge of the rules in soccer, I have just never had the opportunity to test them. I will not be completely without use."

Dick grinned, knowing he had gotten his brother's cooperation. He snagged the younger's hand, despite the grousing that followed the action, and skipped down the stairs to join the others. He would make sure that Damian understood how fun these little games could be, and he would make sure everyone knew not to tease their little brother while he was at it.

(As it turned out, Damian was a natural. Jason's team lost spectacularly to Dick's, much to Jason's chagrin. Dick also discovered that his intervention was quite unnecessary; at the first sign of teasing, Damian delivered a ball to Tim's face with enough power behind it to split Tim's lip. Kid learned fast.)