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Jon frantically stumbled back to the Batcave, Damian hoisted awkwardly in his arms. He and Jon had fought Amazo and Jon had stupidly gifted the machine his heat vision ability. The fight had changed dramatically after that and Amazo posed as a massive threat as he had essentially obtained a power from the Man of Steel. Luckily, or unluckily, Clark hadn’t appeared and Damian used his intelligence to formulate a plan.
Jon cursed at himself, they’d been working together for five years and he still felt more like a hindrance than a helper. Perhaps his dad should have arrived, Damian would’ve had actual help then, rather than a gangly teen who still hadn’t gained all his powers.
“ALFRED!” The boy called out into the dark cave, it lit as his feet touched the ground. Had he been flying? Jon barely had the energy to shout, let alone fly. But Damian was laying limp in his arms, he had to push on. Be the soldier he needed to be, not the goofball he was.
Alfred walked towards the distress call, he was more then used to the sound. Jon pulled Damian higher, taking on leg in his arms as well, the other dragging as he jogged to the ‘med bay’. Alfred already snapping latex gloves on, Jon was more than used to this. But what he wasn’t used to was the Red Hood pulling him away by his collar and shouting at him. Jason yelled about how they had blown his mission ‘out of the water’ and that ‘they could’ve both died’. Jason must have realised fairly soon after he’d begun that Jon hadn’t really been paying attention, he had heard but couldn’t get his mind of his friend because he mentioned that ‘Damian still had a chance at dying’ which pulled Jon’s gaze from just behind him. Jon’s eyes left Alfred’s work to connect to tired, wounded eyes.
Jon knew though, Jason was just as worried as he was. If Damian died he wouldn’t come back and everyone loved him too much for that to happen. There was too much left undone. Hell, Damian had only tried Mint Choc Chip ice cream the other week. His childhood was destroyed and his adulthood had barely begun. It was his birthday next week. Jon had planned to take the Wayne to a baseball game, and for once the heir to practically everything was going to be a normal guy.
Eventually Jason was tugged away by Cass, she offered a sad smile as she took his hand, offering a phone. Jon heard Roy’s voice on the other side. They’d probably go on patrol, it was still late; there was still innocents to protect. But something told Jon Jason could care less about patrol and more about shooting the bad guy. That thought caused heat to rise on Jon’s cheeks, when had he become so bitter? He was the happy one, he cancelled out the bitter comments. He was the sugar in the black coffee which was Damian Wayne.
Shaking off his tiredness and the remnants of his embarrassment Jon made his way to the table. Alfred had stabilized his partner, thank God. It was odd though, because Robin’s costume was red he hadn’t realised how much blood there was. Of course he’d smelt the iron, and felt the warm liquid but the brown body appeared to be stained a horrible red. How long had Jason scolded him? Alfred must have been here for hours. Or was Jon just that tired?
“He must have removed whatever caused this.” Alfred muttered to Jon. Grey eyes meeting blue.
“I tried to get here as fa-”
“It’s not your fault.” Alfred cut him off. He sat momentarily, eyes glassy. The only sound in the room was a too loud beep which was in time with a steady heartbeat. Alfred threw his gloves on his bloodied tools and wiped his face. “Sometimes I believe that the Batman caused this, but without Batman there’d be none of you to care for.”
Jon didn’t know what to say to that, so he awkwardly put his hand on Alfred’s. He gave a reassuring squeeze, it was what his mum did whenever his dad looked like that. Alfred huffed a laugh before getting up and cleaning his station ‘because no doubt his father will be in worse condition’.
Jon chuckled at that and offered to help but was declined, the boy instead took hold of his partners hand and waited.
..
Waking up in a comfy bed was wonderful. However this wasn’t his own so the comfort quickly melted into panic until he remembered: he was at Wayne manor. Jon sprung up, tangled in the covers, he checked the time and the date (just in case). He sighed with relief at 10.42 am TUES. He didn’t really have any important classes today, so that wouldn’t be so bad, and his dad must’ve been called because a familiar backpack was placed on an armchair.
He quickly texted a thanks to Clark, sooner rather than later because he would forget later. Jon sighed, looking down to his clothes. He was wearing a shirt and boxers, which were surprisingly clean. Hoping but cringing at the thought of his dad changing him, he waddled to the bathroom. A shower and clean teeth was needed. Very needed, how did he get that smelly? Blaming the rubble, fire, hormones and Damian’s blood he turned the water on.
That reminded him. Damian. His friend was probably up and about pretending he was fine. But honestly who wasn’t in this mansion? Jon decided to make the shower a quick one despite his muscles protesting.
Once scrubbed clean, he exited the warmth and entered the cold air. Goosebumps appearing on his arms until he’d wrapped a towel around himself. Jon picked up a toothbrush, one which he’d used many times before here, and wiped the steam off the mirror to brush his teeth. He even drew a smily face before deeming himself properly clean and leaving the bathroom.
Tugging a white shirt and pulling some joggers on Jon quickly remembered that Wayne Manor was mostly wood flooring and grabbed some socks before searching for Damian. Luckily it wasn’t that difficult as the room he had always slept in (not always but as they got older there were boundaries to be respected, he assumed their dads were the ones to set them but it could have been Dami) was next door to his partners.< /p> After knocking twice he opened the door and entered the dark room, Damian looked up from his book. The room was dark, illuminated by the white curtains. He was sitting on one end of a sofa, the book in his arm laying on the armrest. Damian wore a pressed shirt, like always, Jon rethought his present maybe he should gift Damian some tees.
“Hey.” Jon smiled taking a seat next to his friend. “You alright? You kind of scared me.”
Damian rolled his eyes. “The next person to tell me that is going to die.”
“Oh.” Jon looked away. “Well. You gonna answer me anyway?”
“I’m fine Kent.” Damian’s eyes returned to the pages.
Jon’s brows pulled at that, Damian hadn’t called him ‘Kent’ in a while. “Dami.”
Luminescent green eyes met his. Jon had often wondered what it would be like to see Damian’s natural eyes but since his ‘rebirth’ his eyes seemed to glow unnaturally. It was odd that his eyes were effected but Jason’s hair was. Did Ra’s’ eye’s glow? Was his hair tinted white? Was he really demonic or was that just a title?
“Jonathan you’re starring.” Damian pulled the boy out of his trance.
“Sorry.” Jon bit his lip. Actually that was what he wanted to say. “I am sorry, if I hadn’t gone in all guns blazing then you wouldn’t be pretending not to be hurt.”
Damian’s cheek hollowed slightly, his lip pulling a fraction. That meant he was biting the inside of his cheek, he was hurt and Jon could read him easily. “I’m fine Jon. Don’t you have school to go to?”
Deflecting wasn’t good but it wasn’t bad, at least he was talking. “I thought I could take the day off. Someone needs to annoy you.”
Damian chuckled before subtly recoiling in pain.
“Why are you wearing that?” Jon blurted. He knew Damian was on the verge of either breaking down or cutting off and it was obvious what one Jon wanted.
“Because I wasn’t raised on a farm, where we wear white shirts despite being damp.” Damian snapped.
“I mean you should be wearing pjs or something cosy.”
“I don’t wear pyjamas.” Damian retorted, finally putting the book down. Placing it on the armrest. “I don’t own cosy clothing. I’m a Wayne.”
“Everyone else owns something cosy. Even your dad wears those tees.” Jon laughed.
“I still can’t believe father did that.” Damian joined him, albeit restrained. “We raised so much money though.”
“Still putting ‘Bruce Wayne is The Batman’ on a clothing line is insane.” Jon had tears in his eyes. “And you all modelled them beautifully.”
“Yes I remember you sending them those photos.”
Jon and Damian sat reminiscing a simpler time. Where Jon sending a photo of Damian using the phone case was scandalous. He remembered the photoshoot, Dami had insisted he was there as his siblings posed. Dick wore a tank top, Jason a shirt, Tim had the crop hoodie, Steph the crop tee, Duke had the normal hoodie, Cass the women’s shirt and Kate wore the women’s tank. Barbara had designed the website and made sure Jon got the picture of Damian. He was looking offside, clearly bored in the first, the second had his smiling (his smile was more his eyes than his lips) at Jon and the third was a scowl and a middle finger.
They were still getting money coming in so they were still selling the items. Jon smirked at that thought. Bruce had appeared on an interview wearing a custom suit with the words printed on it. He laughed saying “I know you guys feel so much safer knowing I am the bat.” He then went on to confuse Man-Bat and Batman just for good measure.
“C’mon Dami, let’s find you something comfy.” Jon stood clapping his hands together walking towards the massive drawers.
Damian picked his book back up and told him, “The only ‘tees’ in there are yours from every time you leave them here. Each time you say you’ll take them home two more appear.”
“Oh?” He opened middle of five drawers to find neatly folded trousers, all the trousers were suit pants or designer jeans. Scoffing at that he closed the drawer and opened the one above. As Damian had mentioned his shirts were no better, they all looked expensive and itchy. Jon sighed choosing to go to the fourth drawer, ignoring the top one which he’d assumed were underwear and socks. However this one was filled with Robin’s armour and some assorted weapons. He glanced back to find a smug smile but eyes that were glued to worn pages. Jon crouched to open the bottom one.
A smile finding its way onto his face. This was the ‘Jon’ drawer. He rummaged through them until he found a special pair of his own joggers. That’s where they’d gone. They were his favourites once upon a time but he doubted they’d fit anymore. If they did they’d end at his ankles that for sure. Jon chucked them onto the bed before turning back to his work. He found a few tops that could work but underneath everything was a hoodie. Nodding as he pulled a shirt with a stupid cowboy pun (he didn’t remember this shirt but there was no way it wasn’t his) and the hoodie he chucked them onto the bed.
“Up.” He told Damian. “C’mon.”
The smugness of Damian’s eyes had left as he reluctantly stood, seeming to understand that Jon wasn’t giving up on this particular battle. He stiffly walked towards the clothes and eyed them for a second, swallowing. Was he scared?
Damian flinched as Jon’s hand touched his arm. “Dami, you’ll feel better. Please. You don’t have to ‘keep up appearances’ after what happened last night.”
“It was this morning.” Damian sassed back undoing his belt. He swiftly took off his trousers and pulled the sweats on. They were grey so it took Jon a second to adjust to the lightness of his outfit, this would be the most colour Damian ever wore, the Wayne usually opted for black trousers and white shirts, but today he was wearing grey and pink.
Jon didn’t realise he was standing staring at his friend changing until Damian went to undo his shirt buttons.
“It’s not pretty.” Damian warned.
“I’ve seen you shirtless.” Jon answered.
That was enough because Damian undid the buttons before pulling the shirt off. Jon was right he had seen Dami shirtless but not for a while, discounting the previous night, and had forgotten the scars. Damian was right: it wasn’t pretty and Jon found himself tracing a scar on Damian’s back. It wasn’t just a scar, it was the scar. Before they were friends when Dami had been killed, savagely just to prove a point. Well, that’s what Jon believed anyway, that’s what it seemed to be.
Damian tensed under Jon’s fingertips. Turning slowly to face him. “Do you think if you hadn’t-” Jon couldn’t say it. “Do you think we’ve been friends?” Alfred’s words echoed around his mind.
Damian’s eyes seemed to lighten at the fact that Jon wasn’t talking about the scars, despite Jon peeking at the newest. “If I hadn’t have died? Perhaps not, there’s endless endings to that story. Maybe mother would’ve kept me.” His voice, usually so strong, faltered.
Jon’s finger tips traced the scar on his front now, just over his heart. Jon knew he had to say something just as important. Damian ignored that part of his life usually, so him mentioning his mum was kind of a big deal. “Your heartbeat.” Jon muttered. “It calms me.” That seemed lame in comparison but Damian softened at that.
“Then I’m glad it’s still beating.”
There was something under those words, but Jon was too naive to see it. He knew that Damian meant something but had no idea where to look. So decided to pull out of the moment they shared. Hell he was stroking Damian’s chest, what sort of person does that?
He stepped back and saw the bricks of Damian’s walls rise back up. Dami spun around and pulled the shirt on and then almost robotically the hoodie. “Is this sufficiently ‘cosy’?”
Jon scanned Damian’s new outfit before nodding in approval. “I think you look amazing.”
He received an eye roll.
“Oh and the scars? You were right they weren’t pretty but they were hot.” Jon laughed. “You’re gonna hook a few fish with them.”
..
A few months passed, and on one unremarkable day when they met the air seemed darker. Jon had arranged to meet Damian at a small diner the Wayne had liked. They ordered their food and sat silently. Jon could tell Damian was contemplating.
“So I got into Bowie.” Jon tried to break the ice. “He’s super cool.”
“I like Modern Love.” Damian offered almost blankly.
“That’s a great one!” Jon agreed, “I liked that more than Let’s Dance. But Absolute Beginners is amazing too. Oh, but so is Jump They S-”
“Jonathan, I have to leave.” Damian interrupted the rambling. Jon was quiet, the food was placed down by the chipper waitress.
“What do you mean?” Jon frowned.
Damian popped a fry in his mouth, “My grandfather sent me a latter. He wishes to talk.” He continued to eat as though that sentence hadn’t shattered Jon’s world.
“Damian you can’t go.” Jon pleaded when he wanted to order.
“Jon, when my grandfather wants to talk he sends assassins to fetch us. Perhaps this letter means he’s changed.” Damian chewed.
“Let me come.” Fell from Jon’s mouth before he could stop it. “Damian.”
He was met with harsh eyes and a savvier shake of Damian’s head. “The idea of you in that place is unsettling, they had me trained to kill from the age of six. You need to stay far away from that place.”
“Dami.”
“Jon.”
“I’m not happy with this,” Jon warned. “In fact I’m pretty angry. Get me in the same room as Ra’s and we’ll see who wins. I can’t believe you’re going back to them!”
“We’re in public, if you want to make a scene we can leave.” Damian patronised the younger.
Jon let out an annoyed huff, folding his arms. “How did Bruce agree to this?”
“Father does and will not know, I don’t intend to be gone longer than a week. If I don’t come back in seven days you can inform him. I’m either dead or being held prisoner.” Damian took a sip of his coffee. “Let’s hope it’s the latter.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Jon’s eyes watered at those words. How could Damian just say that as though it was obvious? How could he be so cool when he should be shaking?
“Because I trust you.” Damian replied, before letting Jon in a little bit. “I’ve been questioning my place in the world and my grandfather reached out to me. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Your place is with me.” Jon’s cheeks darkened. “Where we can help people. We’re partners.”
“There’s already too many heroes. We don’t have to do anything.”
“But your place is with me despite that.” Jon took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt. “We’re best friends. I’ve seen you every day for five/six years.”
“Haven’t you grown tired of me?” Damian joked raising a brow. “Think of it as a vacation.”
“The thought of you there makes me sick and you’re joking about it?” Jon scoffed. “I want to punch you!”
“Perhaps I should’ve told Grayson.” Damian muttered. “If you’re going to punch me save it for later please.”
“Oh you piece of-”
“Kent!” Damian interrupted, “eat your food. It’ll get cold.”
..
Damian had left shortly after, Jon found a note on his bedside table from him confirming it. ‘Jon, clean your room, Alfred would be appalled. See you in a week. Damian.’ It was all Jon had of him, he wasn’t allowed to text in case Ra’s would find out who he was but Jon knew Ra’s wouldn’t care. Damian really told him not to text in case he was undercover and knowing Jon he’d blow that cover off the bed and into a nearby volcano.
So the week dragged on without Robin and Superboy going on patrol. Jon sort of spent the time moping but he wouldn’t admit it to himself. He knew he missed Damian and he knew he wasn’t going out because Damian wasn’t with him but it wasn’t moping really. Was it? He hoped not but his mum had informed him that he had been. He had come to the conclusion that he had a crush on Dami, he’d known it for a while but he was able to admit it now. Hell he’d been listening out for Damian’s heartbeat, in vein of course. Life was hard without Damian there and if moping was the key then he’d become the king of moping.
So when Jon left school on Thursday and found Damian waiting for him next to his truck Jon was ecstatic. He ran up to Damian and flung his arms around him. Damian chuckled in his ear as Jon squeezed him to death.
“You’re back.” Jon whispered into Damian’s neck before pulling back. “I was SO worried.” He slapped Damian’s arm.
Damian laughed, shaking his head. “Shut up. Let’s go.” But Jon was taken aback. He hadn’t ever seen Damian laugh fully in public ever. It was beautiful, he looked so at ease in public. What had happened?
Jon nodded and followed Damian, getting into the driver’s seat of his truck. “Your place or mine?”
Damian met his gaze and just held it. Jon allowed himself to really look at Dami then. He had scratches over his nose and his lip was healing. His eyes looked as though they had been swollen but were merely bruised now.
“You’re staring, Kent.” His eyes warmed before he gestured to the windshield, “Come on.”
The drive home was uneventful, Damian plugged his phone into the aux and put Absolute Beginners on claiming ‘you said you liked it’.
“I’ve been listening to Modern Love.” Jon told him. “Because you said you liked it.”
“Drake used to play it, said it reminded him of his old life.” Damian spoke watching the trees pass, “I liked it quite a bit.”
Jon smiled, Dami loved Tim as much as his other brothers but wouldn’t admit it because he was so stubborn. “It’s great.”
Damian chuckled.
They arrived home after four songs and went to Jon’s room, Lois and Clark were both at work so they were alone.
“I told you to do one thing.” Damian nodded at the floor. “Fucking tidy your room.”
Jon’s head snapped up at that. He’d heard Damian swear out of anger and hatred but never jokingly.
“Well, you also asked me to keep a secret, and then share it in case you were dead. So what happened?”
Damian seemed taken aback but reclined on Jon’s bed nonetheless, “I spoke with Ra’s, he told me that because I’m an adult I should be spoken to as one and tried to make a deal with me.”
“What deal?” Jon frowned sitting on the bed, facing the headboard. He wanted to reach out but thought better of it.
“A Demon Deal as a way of speaking.” Damian smiled but it didn’t meet his eyes.
“Damian.” Jon didn’t know what else to say so let that there.
Damian sat up, now inches away from Jon, Jon’s eyes immediately fell to his lips. He’d only been gone a week and Jon practically lost it. This was slightly more than a crush. He wanted Damian. At the very least he wanted to kiss him.
Damian’s eyes unapologetically fell to Jon’s lips before he smiled, “bet I can beat you at Mario Kart.”
Jon was surprised at that but was handed a controller and quickly came out of whatever trance Dami had caused.
..
Jon was awoken by a loud thumping. It was six quick beats repeated, but it wasn’t musical in the slightest. It was clinical. He couldn’t work out what it was until he worked out it wasn’t six beats but two, repeated. It was a heartbeat. Someone was in trouble. Not just someone, Damian.
The fly from his bedroom to Damian’s seemed like no time at all. He doubted he would be able to measure time anyway, he could maybe measure it in the amount of beats but that wouldn’t help anyone.
The window was easy enough to open, he knew he wasn’t as subtle as who he was visiting but he hadn’t broken it so that was a win. Jon entered Damian’s room and quietly walked to the bed where the latter was thrashing. Jon’s heart broke as he let out an inhuman whimper, almost as though he was in pain.
Jon sat on the side of the bed and shook Damian’s shoulders, carefully. “Damian. Wake up.” He repeated.
Green eyes flashed open and suddenly Jon landed on the floor, on his back under Damian who held a small dagger to his throat. Damian had actually snarled as well, before Jon saw the shift in his eyes. Damian threw the dagger across the room as though it was scalding.
“Jon, what the fuck?” Damian whisper-yelled from his position. Damian was straddling Jon and luckily was wearing the grey joggers from all those months ago. That could have been awkward.
“You woke me up.” Jon explained. “Your heart was so loud and I couldn’t turn it off.” That wasn’t a lie, but Jon hadn’t exactly tried to ‘turn it off’.
Damian sighed above him, slumping. “I almost killed you.”
“Invulnerable remember?” Jon let out a dry laugh.
Damian shook his head, “Not exactly. I cut your neck.” He stood, striding to the bathroom. Jon sat up slowly, before standing and touching his neck.
“Why can’t my powers just work?” He asked no one as Dami came back with a plaster.
“They do.” Damian told him, brushing his hand away. “With the amount of force I was using I’m surprised I didn’t kill you, but luckily it’s just a nick.” The plaster was placed over the cut.
“Thanks Nurse.” Jon smiled.
Damian looked like he was going to say something but closed his mouth and looked down instead. Jon was shocked Damian was ashamed, well obviously he’d almost killed Jon. But it wasn’t his fault. Jon didn’t know what to say either though and that was the problem. They both stood there awkwardly, Jon watching Damian watching the floor.
Jon’s eyes inevitably found Damian’s chest where his skin was littered with all kinds of new bruises. His arms also held fresh cuts. “Damian?” Jon asked carefully reaching for them.
“They’re nothing.” Damian told him. “Just some tests.”
“I knew you were too happy yesterday.” Jon’s eyes
watered. “I hugged you so hard, you must’ve been in so much pain.”
“It’s nothing I’m not used to Jon.” Damian dismissed the wounds.
Jon refused that answer, shaking his head. “No. Tell me. Damian, tell me.”
Damian was silent.
“You’re like a fortress, you keep your feelings locked away. Is it easier? Does it make you feel safe? Because it is difficult to let someone in but you need to. I’m your ally Dami!” Jon cringed. “That sounded so much better in my head. Dami what I’m trying to say, is if your fortress fails you’re always safe at mine.” It sounded like a question. “I know you’re not okay. Please.”
Maybe it was the way the moonlight lit his face or the lack of sleep because it definitely wasn’t whatever Jon had babbled but Damian slowly inclined his head.
“I refused him.” Damian told Jon, leading the younger to the sofa. Jon sat fully facing Damian, cross-legged. “He didn’t like that.”
“So it was just the same proposition?” Jon questioned. “The Demon’s Head?”
Damian nodded. “Apparently Wayne and Al Ghul blood makes the strongest Demon.” Damian chuckled darkly. “I know that.” His hand met the scar, he absently scratched it.
Jon stopped him, pulling his hand into Jon’s lap, which wasn’t the best idea as Jon found out he was wearing his boxers and a t-shirt. He’d flown here straight from his room, so obviously he was in his pjs. But alas Jon kept the hand there, he could comfort Damian. He needed to.
“You’re not a Demon.” Jon shook his head. “They don’t know you. They see scars so they see a warrior. You’re not your scars. They don’t see the angel hidden in your heart.”
“You’re fucking cheesy tonight.” Damian bit his lip. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
Damian looked away ashamed. “I refused him but he-” Damian let out a shaky breath. “He said he’d come for you.”
Jon’s brows rapidly rose, “Me?” he squeaked.
“Refuse me and we’ll put your pet down.” Damian quoted before jumping to explain: “I considered the offer, don’t worry I’m not risking your life over nothing. I can protect you.”
“I don’t care about that, my dad can deal with that.” Jon dismissed, “but why me?”
“He knows.” Damian’s face changed into an emotionless mask. “He knows I love you.”
Jon puffed out a breath, eyes wide.
“But don’t worry. I understand that it’s creepy, disgusting, because of our age, I wasn’t planning on telling you. Ever. Look at me Jon. I’m ruining your life just to live mine. I’m sorry.”
Jon shook his head, “No Dam-” but he was cut off as Damian rose, folding his arms, walking away.
“SHIT!” He yelled, his back to Jon before spinning to face him. “Fuck, no I’ll go back. What’s the point? It’s my destiny anyway.”
“No.” Jon stood, still shaking his head. “Dami no.” Jon walked to him holding his arms. Damian flinched. “Please don’t leave when you’ve just told me you love me.”
Damian looked sick. “I’m sorry.”
Jon shook his head again. “Don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for that.” He smiled at Damian’s frown.
Jon slowly leaned down to capture Damian’s lips. He brushed nosed before pressing his gently on top on Damian’s testing the waters before pulling back to see shocked green eyes.
“Jon.” Damian whispered. “I don’t want your father to think I’ve corrupted you. You’re too good.” His eyes watered. “I’m never going to be able to give you a safe ‘farm’ life.”
“I don’t care.” Jon laughed. “I’ll have you.”
Damian crumbled, nodded frantically, pulling Jon’s shirt meeting his lips again. Their teeth crashed together from the force but neither cared, Damian let his tongue explore Jon’s mouth and Jon’s hands did some exploring of their own up and down his body. Jon made sure his touch was gentle but he couldn’t help them as they ran over his hard body. Damian had been training since birth, so naturally his body was one to stare at, but touching it felt even better. Jon almost melted as he felt both Damian’s hands cup his cheeks. Damian pulled away panting, but Jon wasn’t done as his mouth followed him kissing the corner of Dami’s own. A fire already building within.
“Kent, we better stop there.” Damian told him, still trying to push Jon away.
Jon pulled back frowning, but his frown changed when he saw Damian, his lips were slick, eyes hooded and hair messy despite Jon’s hands staying away from it. Why did he keep his hands from those locks? Jon snaked a hand around him to the back of Damian’s scalp.
“Stop?” The younger breathed, shaking his head for the final time. “We haven’t even started.”
“It’s not exactly legal.”
“You’re rich, everything’s legal.” Jon’s lips found Damian’s collar bone and he nipped at it before discovering a sweetspot. Damian let out a noise as Jon licked around the newest ‘bruise’. “You can’t deny that you’re enjoying yourself. Please.” He whispered the please into Damian’s ear, biting the lobe and with that Dami pulled his lips back up.
The kiss was heated, Jon found his tongue danced with Damian’s despite not being as experienced. Damian’s hand found its way up Jon’s shirt, his thumb brushing a nipple. Jon’s moaned was swallowed eagerly. Damian hadn’t found a sound sweeter so he began massaging the hard nub. Jon involuntarily pressed his hips to Damian’s finding Dami just as hard as he was (so much for his self-control), before pushing him back towards the bed.
Once Damian’s legs met the bed he turned then around so he could push Jon down. Jon landed with a bounce on the bed, hair mussed, lips swollen, dick hard. It was as though Damian was still dreaming.
“Come on then.” Jon smiled up to Dami, “You’re finally taller than me.”
Damian chuckled as he climbed on top of Jon straddling him for the second time that night. This time was a lot better however. Damian’s lips were glued to Jon’s and he only released them after he had hooked Jon’s shirt up and needed to get it all the way off. He pressed his chest to Jon’s needing all the contact he could get. Dami pressed Jon into the sheets rocking his hips, and biting Jon’s bottom lip. A low moan escaped his throat as the friction between them increased.
Jon’s hands explored Dami’s body from this new angle. He ran his hands up Dami’s sides but that caused a sharp hiss to escape Damian.
“Shit.” Damian gasped, replacing Jon’s hand. “Not there.”
“I’m sorry.” Jon said between kisses. “Can I kill him?”
Damian laughed. “I don’t care about anything at this moment other than you and the noises I can draw from your mouth.”
That went straight to Jon’s dick, the younger sitting up to meet Damian’s mouth again. It was hot and wet and Jon wasn’t thinking about anything else but his mouth. That was until he started rocking his hips again. Jon’s hands ran up Dami’s torso again pulling another hiss. As a result Damian pinned Jon’s arms above his head, causing their chests to be flush.
“I want your dick in my mouth.” Damian spoke against Jon’s skin, setting it on fire. Jon reacted by rolling his hips.
Damian ran his tongue over Jon’s torso, sucking and nipping marks all over. Jon didn’t try to contain the moans and mewls, he doubted he could. Damian stopped at his abdomen looking up to meet his eyes. Jon thought he’d die. The sight of Dami panting, kneeling, eyes asking for permission to suck his dick was something he never wanted to forget. Jon smiled sweetly cupping his cheek before running a hand through his hair. Damian smiled back, before kissing the covered dick. Jon’s grips tightened, pulling at Dami’s hair involuntarily.
“Oh my God,” Jon whispered, watching as Damian pulled his boxers off. Damian’s eyes never left his own as he licked his way up the shaft. Jon’s closed as he’d never felt anything that good. Damian’s mouth was hot and wet but that close to his cock it was almost too much.
Dami smirked before taking Jon all the way into his mouth, he pulled off, before taking him in again. Jon’s head hit the pillow as he closed his eyes. Damian continued the heavenly torture before hollowing his cheeks that had Jon’s hips bucking into Damian’s mouth. He fucked Damian’s face a few time before hearing a gag.
“Stop, I don’t want to hurt you.” Jon managed to get out a strangled cry, meeting his gaze. Damian had precum and saliva coating his lips and it took Jon’s breath away. Seeing his dick go in and out of Damian’s mouth was amazing, he hoped he could see it again and again but he had to be rational for now, “I’ve got sup-super strength.” He moaned loudly. Damian didn’t cease his actions though, he quickened the pace. Fondling Jons balls in one hand, the other massaging his inner thigh.
“Da-Damian.” Jon moaned into the pillow as he bucked again. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
The only reply was a hum and an even faster pace, Damian pressing his hips into the bed for some friction. Jon’s hand in Damian’s hair grasped stupidly, his other arm did the same but was intertwined in sheets rather than raven locks. Damian hollowed his cheeks and hummed to increase Jon’s pleasure, which resulted in the string on moans falling from his mouth as hot liquid spewed into Damian’s throat. Damian swallowed most but some dribbled down his neck.
“Now that was hot.” Damian licked his lips before wiping them.
Jon was a mess, but nodded anyway. He took a second before replying, “You’re telling me. I had to watch you suck me off.”
Damian giggled, actually giggled. “I’ve been dreaming of that for quite some time.” Those words went straight to Jon’s dick.
“Really?” He cupped Damian’s cheek, pulling him back down to kiss him. Jon could taste himself on Damian and that was fucking hot. Damian’s mouth coated with a layer proving he was Jon’s, that was when the image of Dami’s new hickeys entered his mind and he smiled into the kiss.
“You’re mine.” Jon whispered, biting his lip. “Oh my god.”
Dami’s eyes shone and he nodded. “Yes, beloved. I’ve been yours for a while.”
Those words went somewhere else, they went straight to his heart. Making him feel a different sort of warm all over. “Don’t say that, I’ll start crying.”
“I won’t judge you.” He spoke smugly before landing a kiss on Jon’s temple.
Jon pulled him back down for another heated kiss, Jon’s hands carefully making their way to his waistband.
Damian stopped Jon’s hands, shuffling to take the trousers off himself. Once free he came back to kiss Jon, bare skin meeting bare skin. It was heavenly, Jon’s sensitive cock craved it as Dami rocked against him.
“I’ll enjoy making you fall apart again.” Damian landed a kiss before grabbing a tube and condom out of the bedside table. “You’re lucky I moved them out of the top drawer. That would’ve been an awkward conversation.”
“This is less awkward.” Jon reassured him. “But it might get awkward because I’ve never… well you know.”
“I’m your first?” Damian shuddered. “That’s hot.”
“You’re hot.”
“Shut up.”
They both laughed before Damian put the condom on himself, ‘that’s the right order to do it’ he told Jon squeezing something onto his fingers. Jon knew it was lube but didn’t really know what to expect when he placed the fingers to his hole. Damian looked at Jon apprehensively as though he could leave, as though he’d want to leave. When Jon raised a brow Damian slipped a finger in.
Jon hadn’t really expected it to burn but slowly it faded into a pleasurable pain as Damian finger fucked him, he entered another finger quickly and Jon’s grip on the covers tightened. “Dami.”
“Beloved?” His voice dripped as he entered another finger.
“You smug shit.” Jon gasped out. Damian pulled his hand away, before positioning himself and with one thrust he filled Jon. Jon’s breath left his lungs and he stared into those green eyes.
“You love it.” Damian whispered as he rocked his hips easing Jon into what was to come. He began to pick up the pace after Jon nodded at him. One hand holding Jon’s leg to his hip, the other next to his head, holding him upright. Jon’s hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him down to bit his lip. He stopped when he tasted iron but Damian continued to kiss him.
“Ignore it, it was cut anyway.” He whispered into Jon’s ear. Jon’s hands found his back, he couldn’t feel guilty about Damian’s lip when he was scratching at his back the way he was. Damian had quickened the pace, bringing a hand to meet Jon’s dick again. He matched the rhythm and raised Jon’s hips sending him into a new sensation of pleasure.
“Oh my,” Jon wasn’t able to keep quiet as he was fucked senseless. “Damian, yes. Yes. Dami. Please. Plea-pleas-se.” Damian would’ve laughed if he could but instead he grunted into Jon’s ear. Jon saying his name like that was intoxicating. He quickened his hips, ramming into Jon with all his might.
“Dami-I’m close.” Jon warned and Damian pushed against the bed to watch Jon’s face.
“Look at me.” Dami ordered. “I need to see you when you.”
Jon locked eyes with Damian and for a moment the world stopped, they had each other finally. Jon never realised how much Damian loved him and Damian would’ve been happy to watch Jon be happy without him. That felt so wrong, Jon’s hand met the back of Dami’s neck.
“I love you.” He panted out.
Damian smiled wide. “You too.”
After a couple more thrusts Jon was done cumming onto Dami’s hand and their stomachs, the sight of Jon letting go caused Damian to as well. He held himself up but Jon pulled them flush, lazily kissing Damian.
They laid there in comfortable silence, Jon’s hands tracing Damian’s scars, Damian’s lips kissing exposed flesh, before Damian rose to get a cloth. He walked back, his stomach clean, and started wiping Jon’s. Jon smiled shyly up to him, raising his arm to pull Damian down, yet again, capturing his lips.
“Love you.” Jon called as Damian left to put the cloth back.
..
They shared many nights like their first, Jon sneaking out more than Damian. It was difficult because in public the Wayne acted almost bothered by Jon but in private Damian couldn’t keep his hands off him.
Jon entered through the window finding Damian reclined on his bed waiting. “Hi.”
“Evening, Beloved.” Damian sat up, his eye swollen from a particularly bad night on patrol.
“Why are you always bruised?” Jon sighed kissing Dami’s temple. Every night Damian seemed to have a new set of cuts.
Damian chuckled. “Keeping the streets safe comes at a cost.”
“But your face is cute.”
Damian kissed his boyfriend. “Yours too.”
Jon settled himself down in Damian's arms. They both laid quietly, the sound of their breathing the only noise.
"Are you alright?" Jon's whisper cut through.
Damian nodded, his chin bumping Jon's head. "I was just thinking about something Ra's said."
"What was it?"
"About how I should continue the legacy with an heir." Damian replied coldly. "He mentioned various times throughout my childhood that if I failed him my son would not."
Jon raised his head pecking Dami's jaw. "Ignore him."
"Of course." Damian's gaze met his.
Jon ran a hand through the raven locks. "You might have failed him but you'll never fail me."
"Thank you beloved."