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Damian was reclining on the sofa when Jon walked into the living room from the direction of the kitchen and stopped behind his boyfriend.
Damian tilted his head back, ignoring the book on tarantulas he had been reading in favor of accepting a small kiss from the kryptonian. It had become a tradition of their to greet each other with a kiss. It didn’t matter how small, they would always do so. Jon had started it years ago with hugs, back when they were young.
“Hello darling,” Jon said with a soft smile as he settled down beside Damian on the sofa. “What’re you reading?”
Damian frowned ever so slightly, since when had Jon called him “darling”? He usually used “Dami”. Maybe today was a special occasion?
Damian sighed and handed Jon the book. “The spiders are quite fascinating creatures,” he explained, “I always wanted one. Though Father always said that ‘arachnids were his limit’ and never allowed me my own.” Jon nodded along as Damian continued. “I really do not understand why people are so afraid of them. They are so small and fluffy. Of course, the cannibalization of their mates could possibly be proven unsettling to some. But they are just weak and small minded.”
“That’s really cool, sweetie,” Jon said, handing the book back. “And I don’t find the ‘eating their mates' thing strange. Sometimes, their boyfriends just make them angry, y’know?”
Damian squinted at Jon, but he just kept smiling innocently. After a moment, he shrugged. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Jon nodded and grabbed his own book from the coffee table before returning to Damian’s side and tucking himself in. Damian sighed contentedly and lifted his arm to allow Jon easier cuddle access. He loved days like this, when it was just the two of them. No missions or family drama to distract from the simple pleasure of enjoying each other’s company. They didn’t happen as often as he would like, but this occurred. And Damian cherished every single one of them.
Damian was absentmindedly running his fingers through Jon’s soft hair an hour later when he suddenly remembered that he had brewed himself a cup of tea before sitting down. It would be cold now, and therefore drinking it would be an insult to teas everywhere. Hoever is was a special blend his mother had sent him, so Damian was loath to waste it.
Domain wiggled in his seat ever so slightly and extended his free arm towards the coffee table, and his royal blue mug of tea.
Jon jumped up slightly and reached over to grab it for his boyfriend. “Oh, here you go, honey munchkin. I wouldn’t want you to be deprived of what you love.”
Damian took his tea, suspicious. “Did I upset you in some manner, Jonathan? Are you mad at me?”
Jon looked Damian up and down, smiling brightly. “Oh, I’m absolutely livid!” he announced cheerily, and turned his back to Damian again in favor of reading his book.
Damian blinked slowly. “Pardon?” But Jon didn’t answer. Damian sighed heavily and set his tea and book to the side.
“I sincerely apologize for hiding the stab wound from you a few days ago. It was very minor, and Brown was kind enough to patch it up for me.”
Jon stiffened, but still didn't offer a comment. So Damian went on.
“I was also in the wrong when I informed your parents that we were unable to join them for dinner next week. I know you had been planning to take me to the nature reserve in Chartine on that day. I happened to see your date book open, it was not my intention to ‘snoop.’ ”
Jon huffed angrily, and Damian cringed. Oh, there was something else.
“And…” he frowned in consideration, “I apologize for referring to flannel as ‘tacky’ to my cousin. She was merely asking for civilian dressing tips, and I was informing her of northerners typical attitudes toward the fabric. It was not a personal attack on your character.”
Jon whipped around towards Damian again, eyes wide. “You were hiding an injury from me? Dami, we talked about this!”
Damian frowned. On the one hand, Jon called him ‘Dami’ again. On the other… his boyfriend just found out he had been hiding a stab wound.
“I told you, it was small. Barely a scratch. Stephanie can corroborate my story.”
Jon glared. “And what was that about you lying to my parents? Sneaking looks at my plan for surprises for you?” he paused, seemingly for dramatic affect. “And you called flannel ‘tacky?!’ ”
Damian tilted his head, perplexed. “Then what are you mad about?”
Jon stared, his face a mix of shock and anger. “Okay, we are having a talk about that stuff later.”
Damian nodded. “Of course.”
Discreetly, he pulled out his phone and texted Dick: “Want to ‘hang out’ as you say next week? And ask Timothy to have his clone distract Jon. For pure reasons, of course.”
Jon snatched the phone away. “Nuh-uh, Dami. You aren’t leaving till you answer for your crimes.”
“And those would be…?”
“Eating my pie!”
Damian paused, and set aside his book. “Jonathon, I’m not quite sure I know -”
“Don’t touch my pies, Dami.” Jon was outright glaring, and little hints of red light seeped out of his gaze. Damian wasn’t too afraid, though. He knew Jon would never hurt him.
“What pies?”
Jon gasped, taking a hand to his heart. “The ones my mom made! Three of them! A lemon creme, a cheese and egg, and a shepherd’s pie!”
“Do you perhaps mean the casserole that was in the fridge? The one with mashed potatoes on top? I had that for lunch. The quiche was for breakfast. I didn’t touch your lemon pie, though. I understood you were saving it for dessert.”
Jon’s eyes were wide in a mix of horror and sadness. He opened and closed his mouth as if he were trying to figure out what to say. Altogether, it was the most heartbroken Damian had ever seen him.
“Did…” Jon’s voice cracked, “Did you just call Shepherd's Pie a - a casserole ?!”
Damian cringed. “Is it not? There were vegetables and meat in a gravy, and it was covered in mashed potatoes.”
Jon turned around, clasping a hand over his mouth. Damian cringed harder than before. This was clearly a mistake. Had he hurt Jon? Damian was aware that his family took pies very seriously, so much so that it was the only area of expertise that Alfred readily admitted (To the family, he would never say such a thing to Ma Kent’s face) that he was bested in.
Jon’s shoulders began to shake in silent sobs, and Damian reached out a hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. Jon in the past seemed to appreciate such gestures.
Jon was startled by the hand, and whipped back around to Damian. The young man braced himself for the inevitable tears.
Then Jon met his eyes.
And snorted.
Damian blinked in confusion as the snort seemed to break a dam in Jon, and the super began to laugh so hard, he had to grab Damian’s arm to steady himself.
“You called Shepherd's Pie a casserole!” He crowed in delight, “And egg pie a quiche!”
“Are you alright, Beloved?” Damian asked, and was relieved when Jon nodded.
“You…” He fell over in another fit of giggles, “Oh, Dami. You’re one of a kind.”
Damian tilted his head. “On the contrary, cloning is a very real thing. Are you somehow unaware of how you gained your brother?”
Jon snorted yet again, but didn’t fall off the sofa, thankfully. Instead, he curled up beside Damian again, nuzzling his head under his boyfriend’s chin.
Damian was quiet for a while, attempting to remain patient. Jon was doubtless going to speak again, wasn’t he?
Finally, Damian got tired of waiting. “Jonathan?” He asked.
“Hmm?”
“Aren’t you… mad at me?”
Jon considered. “A bit, yes. But you’re a good cuddler, so I guess we can set aside our differences.”
Damian sighed in relief. “Ah, very good.”
*****
“Perhaps we should get ready for dinner soon. I believe there is still pie?”
“Don’t test your luck, Dami.”
“Very well, Jonathan.”