Work Text:
Snow was gently swirling down from large puffy clouds. Cars rumbled along the streets, wipers flicking back and forth to keep build up off their windshields. Carolers could be heard not far away, and if just faintly, music could be heard from someone's Christmas party.
In the small neighborhood, houses were lighted, some covered in elegant string lights, others with yards filled with childish blow up santas and deers. A few nativity scenes were scattered around, and most houses had trees in their windows. It was a quiet neighborhood, with enough nosey neighbors that everyone knew everyone else's business. Most of the houses were full of families of all ages. A few older parents with adult children waiting to make their way in life, a few new parents, houses where you'd see lights on in the wee hours of the morning. There were exceptions, of course, elderly couples, a few single, rich adults, a few young couples.
One particular house is of interest to this story, however. The house on the corner of Oak and Small streets. The new owners had recently moved in, just a few weeks before the Christmas season. They were young, far younger than anyone expected to be living in this type of neighborhood, in a house that looked like that. Far too young to have a latest model Tesla, and an old 1967's Chevelle in the garage. Far too young for a two story, five bedroom house.
But there they were. Their brick house was one of the oldest on the street. And for a few months before they moved in, there had been contractors coming in and out constantly, lots of construction noise, indicating a lot of remodeling. But they hadn't caused too many problems since then. They put up their Christmas lights, and they kept their dogs on leashes, or in the fenced in yard.
The young couple were of interest for another reason. Specifically the fact that they were both two young men. And that one of them came from incredibly old money. Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent. The son of Bruce Wayne, and the son of famous author Lois Lane. No one could quite figure out why these two had decided to settle in the suburbs of Metropolis.
Damian Wayne, recent graduate from Harvard University, had recently been hired at Metropolis University for their art program. He was an incredibly talented artist, and MU had jumped on the chance to hire him as a professor, even with how young he still was. Jonathan Kent was a Junior at Metropolis University, a fairly high ranked player on their soccer team, and a chemistry major. The two had been together since highschool, against all predictions, and now were engaged, with their wedding planned for the following summer.
It was about a week before Christmas. Within town, people were bustling around, doing their shopping, meeting with family, dining with their lovers. But inside the Wayne-Kent household, it was all quiet. A fully lit menorah was sitting in the dining room window, candles half burned down. A well decorated christmas tree was tucked in the corner of the living room, lights gently twinkling. A fire was dancing in the old brick fireplace, helping to heat the old house.
But the house itself seemed to be sleeping. The usually quiet owners, especially quiet now.
The reason for this was that Jon had run off for an emergency, needing to assist his father and cousin with a natural disaster in Australia. Damian was in his office, slowly working on the next layer of his latest art piece, this one a holiday present for his father.
Damian’s office was also quiet. Soft instrumental music was playing from his laptop, and one of his many pets was laying on the desk, tail flicking back and forth as she purred loudly. But this was okay. He liked the silence, the peace, and the ability to focus on just the sound of the brushes over the canvas. He was working on a painting of the manor, and so far it was going beautifully.
He knew Jon would come back. He rarely went out as Superboy these days, focusing mainly on his school, but when he did, it was even more rarely something dangerous. Just these missions where a lot of citizens could get hurt without him stepping in. But he always came back, and so Damian very rarely worried. Or at least, that’s what he told everyone.
Their holidays so far had been fairly relaxed and pleasant. Aside from the finals. Jon was taking them, and Damian was grading them. At least with his particular class he was teaching this semester, it wasn’t essay’s or tests. It was more of a final project, a final art piece he had to grade and then return. But his office both here at home, and at the university, were now full of these art pieces. Damian and Jon had celebrated Hanukkah this year, a tradition Damian had picked up from his father, even if they were not a religious family, they still celebrated the Jewish holiday, and Jon had been happy to continue that with him. They also celebrated Christmas, but both of their families had celebrated that while they were growing up, so it wasn’t unusual for them at all.
Damian painted for a few hours, undisturbed and at peace.
“Hey, I’m back!”
Damian smiled to himself, hearing the call from downstairs, followed by the door shutting. He made no effort to move though, just kept painting, focusing on the patterns caused by the brick on the manor. He heard one of the dogs barking and then running around, and Jon’s laughter. Then footsteps coming upstairs. He listened as Jon went down the opposite hall, and then he could hear drawers opening and closing. After a few minutes, the door to the office creaked open.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hello, my love.”
Damian looked over. Jon was leaning against the doorframe, now wearing a red pullover sweater and sweats.
“How was your family?”
“They were good, they wished us a Happy Hanukkah by the way.”
Damian hummed, looking up and smiling at him again.
“Your painting looks amazing,” Jon commented, nodding at it.
“Thank you. I just hope father will like it.”
“He’ll love it.”
They stood there in silence for a while, Damian just painting. He usually didn’t like people watching him paint - which was interesting considering he was an art professor - but he never had an issue with Jon. Mostly because he knew Jon wasn’t there to critic or study him. He was just there to be there. He was there just to be with Damian.
Once Damian had finished all he could do on this layer, he turned to Jon.
“I have to let this dry, do you want to go make an evening snack while I clean up?”
“Sure!”
Jon stepped forwards and kissed him gently, before turning and walking out. Damian walked to the bathroom down the hall, washing out his brushes in a sink that was already stained with paint. The house was still a little sparse in furnishing, but he didn’t mind much. Sometimes having things empty was nice. It meant new beginnings, a chance to make your own decisions.
He scrubbed his hands next. They never stayed dry while he was painting. And then he headed over to their bedroom. He grabbed a pair of pajama pants, and one of Jon’s silly movie merch hoodies and changed out of his painting clothes. When he got downstairs, Jon was in the kitchen, humming as he stirred hot coco. Christmas music was playing softly from a speaker somewhere. Damian walked over, slipping his arms around Jon from behind and pressing his cheek into his shoulder blade.
“You still good with going to Smallville for Christmas?”
Damian hummed confirmation, swaying slightly with Jon.
“Amazing. You wanna watch White Christmas finally?”
Damian sighed softly, but he was still smiling. Jon had been bugging him all month to watch this movie, as apparently it was one of his childhood favorites.
“Sure. We can watch it.”
“You wanna grab a bowl of that chex mix the neighbors made?”
Damian pulled away from Jon, turning away and pulling a bowl from the cabinet and then the baggy from the pantry. Together they gathered their movie time snacks, and then made their way to their living room. Jon tossed another log onto the fire and poked it a bit, while Damian grabbed some blankets.
They settled on the sofa, Damian curled into his fiance’s side, blanket over their laps. Jon navigated around their tv until he found the movie, and started it. Then he passed Damian his cup of hot cocoa, rested the snack in between them, and wrapped an arm around Damian.
“Beloved?”
Jon hummed, looking down at him.
“Merry Christmas.”
Jon grinned, tilting his head down, carefully kissing Damian.
“Happy Hanukkah, Damian.”
They snuggled up together in an almost picturesque scene. The couple snuggled together, wrapped in a blanket, watching a movie in front of a roaring fire, a dog curled up at their feet and a cat on the other end of the sofa. And if Damian fell asleep there? Well that was between them and their pets.