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If anybody were to ask Jon what exactly had he seen in Damian Wayne, Jon would not know what to answer. Not because he didn’t have an answer, but actually because he had many. He had hundreds. Thousands of them.
For starters, everybody would agree that Damian Wayne, the devil’s heir, was a very handsome man. With dark skin, silky black hair, and beautiful green eyes, Damian would be considered handsome by anyone with functioning eyes. He was lean, not as bulky as his father had been, but just as strong and with defined muscles. A life of training and a vegetarian diet had made him strong in a lithe way. Perhaps the most dangerous way. The way one would not expect.
Not that anybody would expect Damian Al Ghul to be weak. Not with the way he behaved, the way he moved, the way he dressed, and the way he spoke. Everything about Damian was about power. It was about getting better even when better didn’t even seem to be possible.
As Ra’s successor and the new leader of assassins, Damian had done a great job. And with the half Kryptonian as his ally and partner, there was almost nothing they couldn’t accomplish.
It was evident to anyone that knew them, that there was nothing Jon would not do for Damian. And there were very few things that someone as powerful as Jon could not do.
Jon would bring the whole world to Damian’s feet, if he only asked.
Perhaps there had been another time and another place, in which Jon had believed that arbitrary justice was no justice at all. That power imbalance was not the answer, but then again this was no longer the time nor the place. Not, after all these years.
Not after the Pit.
Not after waking up from the dead, screaming and surrounded by the green glow of the Lazarus pit as Damian held him tightly while he muttered sweet nothings and promises next to his ear.
It seemed almost surreal how Jon could easily admit now that in order to eliminate some problems, one had to annihilate the source itself. With no forgiveness nor second chances. Once and for all.
It worked well.
They both made it work. It hadn’t been easy, but it had been worth it. The time, the effort, the fights, and the losses had led them to this moment.
And Jonathan was happy.
With that thought in mind, He turned to look at his companion.
His lover’s eyes were closed. Beautiful jade eyes hidden from view as his lover slept peacefully next to him. His expression was serene, and gone was all the wariness he usually carried during the day, replaced by a content look. A view reserved for their moments alone. And for no one but Jon himself.
It was not a common occurrence for Jon to wake up before Damian, but then again, last night had been wild. After the fight, after Damian had insisted he was fine, the Kryptonian had certainly not gone easy on his lover.
He had all but thrown him on the bed and ravished him. And Damian, sweet beautiful Damian had taken it all in stride with prideful green eyes.
The Kryptonian’s eyes traveled to his lover’s neck and chest, both were covered in hickeys and love marks. Love marks he had deliberately made to claim and brand the other as his. To make it obvious to anyone who looked, that Damian was taken. That he was provided for, cared for, and satisfied. That Damian Wayne, the Devil’s Head, was his and his alone. His king, his partner, and his everything.
Jon mused at the thought of how much he wanted Damian. How he craved him like a thirsted man upon an oasis. Because Jon wanted his attention, his thoughts, his heart, his body, and his soul. He wanted all of him to the point that it was scary. To the point that Jonathan considered it a curse and a blessing. All at once.
The alien sometimes wondered if this was what Jason and Damian had meant when they spoke of the after-effects of the Pit.
One of the pits’ effects is that it intensifies the user’s emotions and desires. We do not know what effect it could have on Kryptonians.
I do not care, Todd.
Green eyes opened softly and calmly. They were slightly groggy, with sleep still clinging to them, but not any less beautiful as always.
Not for the first time, Jonathan found it so ironic that Damian’s eyes matched the color of Kryptonite.
Then again, the young man next to him was as much his weakness as Kryptonite itself. Perhaps even more.
“You look like a creep,” Damian sighed as he punched him playfully on the shoulder.
Jon laughed, as he smiled down at Damian.
“Morning, Dames, did you sleep well?” He asked amusedly.
The assassin frowned and rubbed one of his eyes with the back of his hand, and Jon suppressed the urge to kiss him.
Nobody in their wildest phantasies would be able to imagine, let alone see, just how beautiful Damian was after a night of passion with his spiky hair pointing out in every direction, his lips plumply red, and his skin dotted in love marks. Devoid of his imposing green and golden robes, along with the gold jewelry, Damian looked completely the opposite of the imposing man the rest of the people and nation leaders were getting used to see, to obey, to fear, and to respect. Because even though Damian was more than able to defend himself, everyone knew that regardless of where the Demon Head went, the Kryptonian alien would not be far away and that any attack against him would only end in retaliation from the most powerful being on Earth.
“Do not act so cocky,” Damian said as he closed his eyes again.
His voice was hoarse due to their nightly activities. And although Damian had never been a screamer, despite of Jon’s best efforts, the Kryptonian could easily admit that his name on Damian’s lips was music to his ears. He couldn’t be blamed for wanting to hear it time and time again.
“How are you feeling?” Jon asked as one of his feet rubbed against Damian’s legs.
“Training will be a bitch today,” the other said as he buried his face in his pillow.
“Yeah. Last night was a bit rough,”
Jon had stopped short from apologizing. Damian had conditioned it out of him.
After their very first night together all those years ago, when their lives had been so different to the way they were now, Damian had left it very, very clear to Jon that he only did as Damian allowed. He had told to Jon in no uncertain terms, that not even in his wildest dreams would he be able to go any further than Damian wanted.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Jon smiled as only the love drunk did.
“Ah.” his lover smiled as he opened his eyes to look at Jon through the corner of his eye “You can start by not coming on my face next time I give you oral. Premature ejaculation is not appealing at all, Jonathan” his smile turned wicked.
Jon blushed.
Even now, with the world at their feet, Damian could be such a tease.
Damian laughed before leaning up to peck him on the lips.
“Why, habibi, do not look at me like that,” he said playfully as he leaned in to whisper against Jon’s ear, “Here I thought you would be up for a morning quickie,”
The Kryptonian laughed, and the grip he had on his lover’s waist under the covers tightened slightly as he buried his nose in Damian’s neck.
They both sighed in contentment.
This world was theirs.