Chapter Text
“For God’s sake, beloved, please…”
Damian looked so broken in that very moment, his eyes had lost that shade of green so beautiful Jon used to think it was the embodiment of hope and beauty.
Cupping his cheek with his cold hand, the mortal rested his forehead on his lover’s, whispering so softly the sorcerer was glad his hearing spell worked so well.
“Please, Jon, just talk to me… I’ll do everything you want…”
That got a smile out of the tall and dangerous man. A smile that sent a shiver down Damian’s spine, the dark eyes he fell in love with cold and unwavering, tearing his soul apart.
“Then kiss me.”
And he did as he was told, his golden fingertips barely touching the broad shoulders of his beloved as his lips met the sorcerer’s. Their kiss was anything like before, Jon’s hands heavy on his body, as soft as bullets.
When Damian tried to pull away to catch his breath, he found out he couldn’t. Maybe because his body would not obey him, or maybe because Jon had his right hand in his short black hair and his left arm hooked around his waist, keeping him in a strong hold against him.
Or maybe it was just because, from his heart’s deepest core, he did not want to break out of his lover’s grip, did not want to leave the peace he found in his embrace.
His thoughts left him when he felt a hand on his throat, a strong grip settling around it. Panic filled his mind, but he truly started pushing away when the need for air acted on his lungs, burning.
But the man never let go of him.
Soon enough, Jon felt the weight change. His love was limp in his arms, his body unmoving and his eyelashes no longer fluttering between them. His eyes were conquered by sadness a few moments ago, but now, they had found that emptiness of death the Kryptonian knew so well.
Jon also knew they had lost their flame forever.
He finally allowed the sickening smile to disappear, his mouth turning downward and his eyes filling with tears he would not let fall.
The sorcerer held Damian’s body against his own. He held the beautiful and slender chest close to him, close to his beating heart. Knew that it would be the last time. Made sure he would remember forever.
Placing one last kiss on the corner of Damian’s dark lips, Jon wished this could’ve been forever, but knew better.
Damian had to die. Had to die from his hand, so he could break the gunslingers and all their closest allies. Bruce Wayne would not be himself after he learns about his youngest son’s death, and perhaps that would finally be it for Jason’s immunity to his magics.
He knew this was a big win and would be for the decades to come. He always knew this… thing between him and Damian Wayne would end with his younger lover’s death. Hell, killing the brat was the only reason to this relationship to begin with!
Then why did he feel so… empty? Why did he feel like he just lost a part of his soul?
Why did the thought of Damian’s death made him want to scream, to cry and to give up everything he stood for?
Why did the thought of the young man suffering made him sick, and why did he…
Why was he filled with regrets? Why did he dread the thought of never telling Damian how much he meant to him, or how beautiful his emerald eyes were, or how nice he sounded like when Damian sang to him, thinking him asleep?
Why, oh God, why, did he wanted to die when he realized he never told his angel how much he loved him?
Before he could truly understand what he was feeling, he let go of Damian’s body, leaving it to fall on the hard rocks of the river’s shore. The water gently reached for the dead man’s hand, as if holding it to sooth the pain away.
The golden fingertips disappeared, leaving only brown skin behind, as the color merged within the water.