Chapter Text
Okay.
Here’s the thing.
In order to keep his nice, shiny record, and his top student status, as well as not making his older brother turn on the accursed dad voice, Damian had to make amends with stupid Jon Kent.
The last few weeks consisted of their back and forths, some mildly amusing, others…rather physical, leading them to where they were now, Saturday morning detention.
Damian was certain he’d be able to breach what he was positive was a cover, perhaps self defense, and maybe even fix the boy up.
Granted, he was no miracle worker, and in his opinion, Jon Kent was in desperate need of a miracle.
However, he was certainly persuasive. The added benefit of being a former delinquent himself gave him a way to worm past the defenses, not that the other boy would know.
And something most everyone but themselves knew was that maybe, despite everything pointing to the contrary, they didn’t really want to hate each other.
Admittedly, detention was a familiar environment to Jon, countless weekends lost to the silent drab classrooms.
“Yo, Kent!” A teen with close cropped brown curls called out from the side of the room as he entered the designated detention room.
“Heard Wayne kicked your ass last week.” The shit-eating grin plastered on their face gave the hint that the words were teasing, but Jon knew it was also to get a rise out of him.
“What do you know, Akira?” He snorted. “At least I’m here for somethin’ other than scribbling on the walls.”
They made a mock offended gasp, the jacket they were wearing covered in tastefully placed paint splotches, patches and pins, much like the rest of the outfit.
“I’ll have you know it was a beautiful piece of work, and a form of self-expression. Besides, it was technically for an English project, so I shouldn't even be here.”
“Sure.” He rolled his eyes, shooting them a grin that would leave most people swooning. Akira only smirked back, and spoke up again.
“So, how was it like to have a good boy gremlin kick your ass? Bet you thanked him after, what with the drooling you’ve been doing lately.”
Jon flushed and opened his mouth to retort, but as he did, a teacher stepped in the door.
“Jon Kent, you’re to be in the classroom down the hall instead.”
He nodded, flipping Akira off behind his back and walking out. Unfortunately for him, the only other person in the room was Damian fucking Wayne, who was on time and probably a few minutes early to everything, including detention, apparently.
“Hello,” he said cautiously. “Good morning.”
Jon startled. What the hell was going on? Sure, Damian was polite when they had their tutoring, although after the first few days it was more sarcastic.
“Were you body-snatched?” He blurted out. Damian’s lips twitched upwards, but the flicker vanished as quick as it came.
“No.” Jon watched him suspiciously, before turning and sitting in the back. The other boy got up and slipped in the seat next to him.
“Seriously, man, what’s wrong with you?” He crossed his arms, scowling at the boy next to him. Damian held out a cup, similar to the one in his hand.
“Here.”
“Did you poison it?” Jon looked at it warily.
Damian shot him a deadpan look, shaking the cup at him. “Take it or leave it, Kent.”
Hesitantly, he took it, and under his watch, sipped from it, sighing as the bitter taste of caffeine flooded his senses. Not too much milk and lots of sugar, just how he liked it.
Wait.
“How do you know my order?” he demanded immediately, Damian nearly dropping his own cup.
He flushed, whether in embarrassment or anger, and avoided his gaze. “I only guessed. You bring a coffee cup during tutoring every week and based on what the contents smelled like, I added it up.”
Jon took the lid off of the cup and sniffed hesitantly, much to the other boy’s amusement. “I don’t smell anything,” he pouted. “It’s just coffee.”
Damian covered his mouth with a hand, hiding the small smile that appeared. “Well, we can’t all be winners, can we?”
“You’re telling me.” Jon scowled, poking at the fading bruises on his pale skin. “Since we’re being civil today for some reason, mind tellin’ me where you learned to kick ass? Because as much as I hate to admit it, you sure kicked mine.”
His expression became guarded and he shook his head, opening a book. “No, thank you. I’m afraid this is as far as my pleasantries extend today.”
“C’mon, we were gettin’ somewhere.” He whined, draping himself across the desk, staring up at him with black framed blue eyes.
“I’ve beaten you once, provoke me and you’ll receive it a second time.” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and inwardly he cursed his own uncontrolled anger.
This is what would always get him into trouble, the lack of brain to mouth filter as his mind clouded with the emotions, taking hold of his actions without thinking of the consequences.
“No thanks.” Jon muttered, ducking his head and pulling out his phone, scrolling through his socials. The silence stretched out, Damian considering he’d done a wonderful job of being civil, although they weren’t exactly joined at the hip yet.
“Sorry I punched you in the face.” He blurted out against his will. “And you know, just generally beat you up. In my defense, you were very provoking.”
Because this was how to properly apologize. Ah yes, justifying your actions with their own. Honestly, what was it about this boy that made every one of his perfectly crafted walls and mannerisms come crashing down in flames?
To his surprise, Jon put his face down, shoulders shaking. Damian was quickly hit with a large dose of anxiety, concern, and fear. He carefully reached out a hand like what his brothers would have done, and placed it on his shoulder, causing the other boy to jump up and reveal something that caused Damian to scowl and turn away.
The fucker was laughing .
“I’m sorry,” He chortled. “I just didn’t want you to punch me in the face-”
“I should still do that.” Damian grumbled, hitting him in the shoulder a bit harder then needed for a ‘friendly’ punch. “I was concerned I'd made you cry.”
Jon looked nearly offended, the expression off-put somewhat by the fact that he was still smiling. “Takes a bit more than that to make me cry, Wayne.”
“Good to know.” Damian deadpanned.
They stared at each other for a moment, the corners of Damian’s mouth twitching upwards and sparking a new round of laughter from Jon. The other boy fell victim to the unspoken hilarity as well, quiet chuckles catching the other boy’s attention.
“Hey,” He said after they’d quieted and gone back to the things they’d been doing. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
And why am I falling for it?
Damian shrugged. “It’s a little hard to have to hate someone like this. You’ve no idea how much I wish I could go back and erase it. If I want things to go the way I do, then I think I should keep my patience.”
“I’m sorry too.” Jon muttered. “I was an asshole, I know. And I kept going even when I should have stopped. I was surprised, to be honest. I didn't think you’d be so…good at fighting back. It was stupid and kind of mean, even if you weren’t super bothered by it.”
And maybe…maybe I was a little drawn to you, too. Unexplained, aggravating enamourment. Couldn’t catch it, always just out of reach. And always would be.
Damian fiddled with the pencil in his hands. “Apology accepted. No more bothering me to the point where I punch you again, right?”
“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ at the end and offered him a lopsided smile.
“And you'll be showing up on time for tutoring?”
“Can’t promise that, darlin’.” Jon shot finger guns at him, Damian shaking his head, a smile threatening to break through the stern facade.
“I guess that’s something.” a flicker of some emotion flashed across his face, and he stuck out his hand to be shook. “Would you like to start over?”
Jon nodded, and Damian’s small hand was enveloped by the other boy’s leather clad one. “Jon Kent, bad boy extraordinaire and all around flirt. Nice to meetcha, gorgeous.”
He scoffed as a wink accompanied the words, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Damian Wayne. Your tutor for the foreseeable future. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
They shook once and let go, for once at peace. Jon turned his head to the side. “Since we’re chill now, teach, wanna get outta here? Get a bite to eat?”
“As tempting as that is, I promised I’d not get into any more trouble at school. After our time is served, however, I might consider the offer. On the condition that you stop the godforsaken flirting. ”
Jon smirked, poking at him. “Did I fluster the great Damian Wayne with a few notes on his appearance?”
“No!” He sputtered, pink dusting his cheeks. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t want people to think you’re my boyfriend.”
Jon faltered at Damian’s clear dislike of the thought, not that he could blame him. He wanted to stay on this boy’s good side, now that he’d gotten a taste of it. The other side had been fun, and knowing the buttons to push, he could easily get a rise out of him if bored.
He played it off, pulling a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I would be a wonderful boyfriend. But, if you’re not into perfection, I understand.”
The laugh was quiet but genuine, hands flying up to his mouth to hide it. “Whatever.”
“Did Mr. Eloquent just say whatever ?” the other boy gasped. “A piece of informal language from Damian Wayne?”
“Dramatic.” He scoffed. “I’m really not as bad as I seem.”
“Yeah right.” Jon laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He gave a daring grin, causing something to flare in the depths of Jon’s soul. The smile mirrored the one he so often wore getting into trouble, and suddenly he was more inclined to believe that the boy he’d thought as a teacher’s pet goody two shoes with a mean right hook really wasn’t all grades and perfection.
“Guess maybe you ain’t so bad, Wayne.” Jon said at last. “Pretty on the outside, but you’ve got a different side to ya. Gremlin-like, probably.”
“I feel mildly offended by that.” Damian muttered, before responding in kind. “You aren’t ‘so bad’ yourself either, I suppose. Despite all of this , you’re softer than you’d like to admit. Puppy-like, probably.”
“You know, I see your point of mildly offending.”
They laughed together, a timer on Damian’s phone ringing. “Oh, would you look at that? Almost free.”
“I guess time does fly when you’re having fun.” Jon responded, hesitant. “Guess we were kinda having fun.”
“It would seem that way.” The other boy typed something rapidly, and quickly received a response. “I’ll take you up on the lunch offer, Kent, if you’d like to continue this fun .”
“I would, actually. I’ll take you to meet one of my friends, her family runs the best diner in this city.” Jon grinned.
“Another miscreant such as yourself?” Damian raised an eyebrow.
“Nah, only when she’s with me.” He grinned at him, kicking up his feet onto the desk just to make the other boy scowl. “You’ll have more fun than your good boy senses are used to.”
“Mm, we’ll see.” The other boy tapped a pencil against his lip. “I think there’s a lot about me that you don’t know, Jon.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And get your feet off the table, were you raised in a barn?”
“Yes, actually.”
“I’m getting more context on that later.”
The short amount of time left in the classroom was mostly spent in silence, the promise of an adventure hanging in the air. And maybe a friendship as well.