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Nothing was more thrilling than flying through the air, vanquishing enemies with his partner by his side. Nothing was more relieving than shedding his mask and resting his aching muscles, also with his partner by his side. And nothing was more worth the battles than a Saturday night to themselves unwinding with a movie marathon.
Damian’s torn cape dropped soundlessly to the carpet, followed by his soot-covered shirt. “Can you pass me something clean?”
“Yeah, one sec,” Jon said.
He took off his dirty shirt and tossed it in the hamper before rummaging through his closet. A moment later, he handed Damian a green long-sleeved shirt and matching shorts—secretly Damian’s favorite, though he won’t tell anyone.
“Appreciated, habibi.”
“‘Course, babe.”
Damian leaned in and placed a peck on Jon’s lips. Jon smiled and returned the gesture, his hand resting on the nape of Damian's neck.
Damian took that as a challenge. He grabbed Jon’s face and crashed their lips together. Jon’s hands moved to Damian’s waist. They stumbled and Damian’s shin bumped into the desk chair, but they didn’t break formation.
“What is going on here?!”
The boys whipped their heads to see Lois standing in the doorway with a bowl of popcorn, stunned.
Jon’s eyes widened. “Mom, I can explain—”
“Downstairs, now.”
Damian had been under pressure before—he’d undergone interrogation training with the League. But none of their tactics compared to the damning silence engulfing the living room as he and Jon sat on opposite ends of the long sofa. He didn’t dare spare more than the occasional glance at Jon, who fiddled with the hem of his hoodie, nor did Damian dare speaking up first. He watched as Lois sat in the armchair rubbing her templed while Clark paced back and forth in front of the flickering fireplace. Jon reached for the popcorn. Lois glared, and he sunk back into the cushions.
After several minutes, Clark asked, “What were you two thinking?”
Jon chuckled nervously. “We were thinking we like each other? A-are you mad?”
“Of course I’m mad.”
“Is it because we’re boys?” Jon asked.
“What? No!” Clark exclaimed. “It’s because you’re ten.”
Lois said, “Bruce will be here in a couple of minutes. We can discuss what to do about…” She gestured. “This.”
Those couple minutes felt like an eternity, no doubt because Damian knew Clark told his father everything. He wasn’t as concerned about being benched as Robin as he was about losing the ability to see Jon. As the seconds crawled, he looked from the clock to Krypto obliviously wagging his tail to the chipped corner of the coffee table. Anything to avoid the Kents’ judging stares.
The front door slammed open. “Alright, what were you two thinking?”
“Father, we already went over this,” said Damian.
“Okay, different question then: how long has this been going on?”
“About two months,” Jon said. At the same time, Damian answered, “Nine weeks, three days, and twelve hours.”
“Unbelievable.” Bruce plopped down in the other armchair. “And you told no one?”
“Wilkes and Batson know—they set us up.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Gazing at the carpet, Jon twiddled his thumbs. Damian was tempted to take his hand, but that wouldn’t help the situation.
Jon looked up with pleading eyes. “Please don’t make us break up. I really like Damian.”
Damian nodded. “I hold a deep regard for Jonathan, too.”
Clark opened his mouth but closed it again.
Lois got up. “Okay, I think it’s time for a parents’ meeting. Gentlemen, kitchen, please. Boys, stay right where you are. And Jon, no eavesdropping with your superpowers.”
They nodded.
“Bruce, tea or coffee?” Lois asked.
“Coffee, please,” Bruce said.
Clark took a seat across from Bruce and propped his chin on his hand. “You know, this isn’t what I expected from this team-up.”
Lois poured the coffee. “Clark, it’s 2021.”
“Oh, I know. That part’s fine,” he said.
Bruce graciously accepted the cup. Silver spoons clinked against ceramic mugs. Clark occasionally glanced toward the living room, as though expecting something.
“I don’t think we should make them break up,” Lois said.
“Why not?” Clark asked. “They’re way too young! I didn’t even know what a crush was at Jon’s age.”
She took a sip. “Clark, honey, did I ever tell you about the first boyfriend I had?”
“Was he ugly? Please tell me he was ugly.”
“He wasn’t ugly.”
“Darn it.”
“Clark,” Bruce said, “please focus. Lois, please continue.”
“I was twelve years old—right between what the boys are now. We met in art class, where he painted me a Valentine’s card. We started dating in the sense a couple of clueless kids would—movies at his house, ice cream after school, all that,” she said. “My family—my father especially—didn’t approve and forced us to break up. I guess you can say that was the beginning of my teenage rebellion. I lied to my parents about sneaking out, and that took a toll on our trust and relationship.” She looked around the table. “My point is, they’re going to find a way to do what they want. As parents, we should provide them with a safe place to explore so they don’t get hurt.”
“So like… chaperoning their dates?” Bruce asked.
“No; something tells me their dates double as patrol, anyway.”
He leaned back. “That’s my boy.”
“I understand what you’re saying.” Clark zipped to his office and returned with a yellow notepad and a handful of pens. “Time to set some ground rules.”
They reconvened in the living room. Jon inched to the edge of the couch while Damian remained the way he was, ears ready.
“Alright, boys,” Lois said. “After some discussion, we decided you two can stay together.”
Jon cheered and threw his arms around Damian. “Thank God. I missed you.”
“Tt, I was right here.” However, Damian let out an internal sigh of relief.
“Under some conditions,” she continued.
Jon nodded furiously. Damian gave his full attention too.
“First, the door stays open.”
“Deal,” Jon said.
“Second,” Clark said, “you have to let us know where you’ll be at all times, and the curfew for date night is ten o’clock. And from now on, no more secrets.”
“Done.”
Bruce said, “Also, don’t let your personal relationship interfere with your hero work.”
Damian raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you care about, Father?”
“Considering I’m engaged to an ex jewel thief, I’m not in a place to judge who you go out with.”
Jon practically bounced in his seat. “Done, done, and done!”
“Oh, and one more thing,” Clark said. “Shirts remain on at all times.”