#Elle picks up recipe ingredients and plants up for her boyfriends while traveling

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Here have some fluffy Jon/Damian/Elle (Super Serious Chaos? Super Serious Chaos) where Jon & Elle bully exhausted pre-vet college student Damian into taking a nap with the cruel application of cuddles on the couch:

Jon’s hand was wide and warm against his back as the Kryptonian absently swiped it along Damian’s spine. Meanwhile Elle was intent on gently dragging her nails along Damian’s scalp, fingers soft through his hair. Between the two of them, the soft couch they’d bullied him into getting when they moved into the apartment and the slant of sunlight they were currently all laying in, Damian didn’t have a chance.

He was supposed to be studying. He had an exam next week for his zoology course and it didn’t matter if he knew the information front to back, he was going to get a perfect grade. But then Jon had splayed out on their plush and over-sized couch with some documentary about scientists attempting to grow seeds discovered preserved in permafrost. And Elle had been pestering him about shrimp posture at his desk - he had perfect posture, thank you he was just making sure to get close enough to his study material, his back hurt because he had patrol last night, nothing else - so he’d allowed her to herd him over to study in the living room instead.

And it was a law of the universe that a Kryptonian wearing soft fleece Robin-themed pajamas basking in the sun was always going to be the most comfortable place for a Bat to perch. So he’d sat down beside his boyfriend - no he had not flopped, he’d simply allowed gravity to do the work for him, it was energy conservation, it was practical - and prepared to study as Elle took her own spot curled up sideways in Jon’s lap with her legs tossed over Damian’s. Sun-sleepy Kryptonian’s were an ideal landing place for ghosts with fire cores as well, obviously.

Somewhere along the line his significant others had conspired against him.

It was the only explanation for how his notes ended up tossed on the coffee table haphazardly while he laid face down across the couch in a nest of pillows with his head in Elle’s lap and Jon’s arm curling over his back, eyes drooping as he lost the battle with sleep. Titus, the traitor, had hopped up to lay against his legs, a heavy warm weight drawing him further and further down. Elle had started humming a song somewhere along the time she’d begun playing with his hair, and Jon was giving those low - near imperceptible - rumbling purrs he gave off when content as he traced patterns along Damian’s back.

This was pay back for staying out until five last night on patrol even though he had a class at seven-thirty. He’d told them he would be fine, he’d done far worse on far less sleep. Timothy routinely juggled a dozen or so projects at a time with just an hour or so of sleep ever few days and Damian was far more competent than him. That argument - for all his grumbled weak protests in the face of Jon and Elle’s unimpressed and worried expressions could be called an argument - had apparently not swayed them though. He was fairly certain Jon had texted the family group chat - Damian’s phone had been confiscated upon stumbling returning home from Gotham U on the grounds that he would end up running off to try and join in on one of the cases one of his siblings mentioned if he was allowed to keep it, again - to ban him from patrols for the rest of the week.

He’d have to get his revenge somehow. He couldn’t just let them run roughshod all over his life like that.

Maybe he could make some sù yā for dinner. Elle had picked up fresh bamboo shoots along with some other stuff on her last portal hop when she’d found herself in Guangzhou. And Jon’s grandparents had passed along some carrots and ginger from the farm that they needed to use.

Last time he’d made the dish Jon had almost cried and Elle had glowed so brightly it had looked like the sun had taken up residence in their dining room. The two had nearly set the apartment on fire fighting over the last piece. Their shrieks of despair when they realized Damian had eaten it while they were tussling had been more satisfying than every victory over every enemy he’d ever faced combined.

Yes. A fine vengeance indeed.

But…later. After he’d lulled them into a false sense of security. Let them think they had the upper hand and strike when they least expected it. It wasn’t that he was falling asleep. No. It was tactical. And had nothing at all to do with the surge of affection and warmth and security that came with having them so close, doting on him. He was tactically allowing himself to appear vulnerable. Nuzzling closer and tightening his hold on them where he’d wrapped his arms around the two was a ruse.

Jon squeezed back, tight enough to press the air out of Damian’s lungs and sooth away some of the latent anxiety over his upcoming test. Elle swiped a lock of hair that’d fallen into his eyes away, palm curling around his cheek and thumb softly stroking along his temple. On the TV scientists droned on about soil composition and growth rates of similar modern plants. Titus gave one of those low grumbling whines that meant he’d fallen asleep where he was curled up against Damian’s legs and was happily dreaming.

Damian allowed his eyes to close. Content to drift to sleep in the arms of the two menaces he loved most in the world.