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Jon doesn't remember asking for a Guardian angel. He never even considered the idea of asking for a pretty angel to protect him via physically. That was until an angel appeared before his eyes in the form of a dark, brooding bat. He was all scowls and no smile, serious and unwavering that it left Jon to wonder if he could even express such emotions such that as gentle laugh. For as long as he knew the boy, he never once smiled. The only thing close to a crack in his frown-full face is a mocking, lopsided grin to his many attempts at flying. Just setting his foot on the ground made him fall over, it wasn't a trivial task as his father showed it to be. But it was certainly enough to get Damian laughing, albeit mocking.
Jon never appreciated his presence. He found it annoying how the older boy would make fun of him for everything and act so hostile to someone he should consider an ally. It would've remained that way if not for the same misfortune he dreaded. The more he spent together with Damian, the more Jon began to see through him. He may not be able to gently smile, but Jon can see through his actions how much he cares. In fact, he cares too much. In the sea of trouble they live in, he could drown any day from the amount he solemnly worries.
His cold exterior is a shield to combat the troubles of the world. No matter how much he tries, Jon can see how it cracks under everything he cares. For someone who was the son of the Man of Steel, he felt like putty as he dawned on the realisation. He melted the moment he fell in love with the vigilante.
He does not know when but that was when he started to really follow Damian around like a lost puppy, roaming for its master, begging for a treat. He does not know when either that he began to fall head over heels. Although he wasn't sure if he should say he fell head over heels, rather soared. He's a jittery boy in the face of love, but he wasn't scared to admit that he was. In the face of God, he'll thank him for giving him such an angel to protect him and guide him—even if said angel is a stubborn prick just like his father.
He also wanted to thank God for turning his misfortune to the most invaluable moment of his lifetime.
"Jonathon," Jon's head flew at lighting speed towards the source of the sweet (not really) voice that called his name. It has been 2 years since they have met and needless to say they've become the bestest partners in the world. They got each other’s back like sticks and stones. They were an odd pair whose character juxtapose so much it was like a comedy sketch. To Jon, a rom-com.
"Yes, Damian?"
He skids over to Damian obediently, something Damian has grown used to after the first dozen times. It was creepy, as he said. And to anyone else besides Jon it probably really was. "What do you need me for?"
Damian swatted his katana and sheathed it back into its scabbard. Sweat was dripping down his face like droplets after his training. Jon watched happily, dreamily at the boy who was slicing dummies down like ants. They indeed were in his eyes and if given a chance, Jon would happily replace those dummies with the indestructible boy of steel.
Not that he would, of course. 'It's just a... joke...'
His own reassurance went over his head.
"Let's go to the amusement park."
Jon was taken by surprise. He had expected a mission, not a date. "W-why?" Jon could only sputter through his sheer astonishment.
Damian quickly cocked his head back, looking anywhere but Jon. His scowl began to form once again, a signature to his stern face. Just as he did so he crossed his arms as if it were an automatic response to something ludicrous.
"If I recall, next week is your 14th birthday. I thought it would be nice for a change to go somewhere to celebrate it,” the giant penny in Bruce's Batcave never looked more interesting than it did now. It was awkward for the both of them, but more so for Damian who had never taken the initiative to invite him to anything other than training. "...Superman’s suggestion, of course."
Jon was rendered speechless. Was this a hint from his father that he had deliberately set him on a date with his crush?
Superman is really super like the press says.
He must've been still because Damian began to look at him weirdly. He poked Jon by the butt of his katana and questioned if he was alive.
When Jon came to animate again, he was as chipper as the annoying chirping birds outside his house. "Yes! Yes!! Of course I'll go!!"
With his controlled strength he grabbed Damian's hands at lighting speed and gripped it so hard it was like Damian proposed to him. His mirror blue eyes stared straight into Damian's earthy green pair, a large smile adorning his pale face. He felt wholly euphoric, he was sure nothing could get him to feel like this the next 9 month again. It was the same feeling as when he found out he inherited his father's super abilities (once he got pass the traumatising part…).
Damian was the one who was speechless this time. All he could muster out was an aspirated 'okay'.
Damian wasn't sure how Jon would react—but he knew indefinitely how long it'll take for his brothers to find out. His father might have already known. No surprising there. He's Batman, after all; and that was bad enough. Add his brothers Jon will have hell delivered to him without asking for it.
Especially Todd... lord, Todd. Damian could only hope for the best and pray for Jon to come out alive.
After plenty of squealing and impulsive conclusions, they finally settled on the date. Saturday, by the docks where they would hang out till, they tire themselves out. For whatever reason, Clark requested Bruce (who was reluctant) to let Jon stay for the night before. "Well, it is a long way back home. And you two can hang out all day then go to the docks later, am I right?"
Was what he said. What excuse he gave.
It made no sense. Especially when his father could literally fly across the earth a multitude of times in seconds. It would’ve made more sense if he just kept it simple and said he just wanted the boys to have a little sleepover before his big day tomorrow. No questions were asked nevertheless on Jon's end. Because he was rather happy with the arrangement. If his dad wanted to play cupid, then he has no reason to object. After all it was working in his favour very splendidly.
When school ended for him on a Friday, he was bouncing all the way home. He nearly blasted a hole through his ceiling when he was packing for two days stay at the Waynes. Imagining his time, dinner with his in-laws, dinner with his father-in-law, and dinner with his soon to be—
Not yet. Too early.
Too early to ask for his hand in marriage. He couldn't bear to ask the son of a man who has everything. He needed to prove to Damian he IS capable as a husband. If not a husband, then a boyfriend. In the near future, Jon would likely be able to lift mountains using only a finger. However, Jon cannot lift the planet that is Damian's love if he was a no-name.
The first thing he needs to do is become a better man. Not a boy. And to achieve even a smidge of that envisioned legacy, he would have to learn how to fly. If he were to ever fall, he knows his darling angel will have his back to no matter what. He saw the good in Damian—especially after they had 'warmed up' to each other.
"Jon!" His father called from downstairs.
"Coming dad!"
The clothes he strewn into his bag is quickly snatched from his bed to zip down the stairs to meet his waiting father. The man was sporting a large smile on his face. He doesn't know what it indicated but judging from the overly proud look (?) he was probably feeling overzealous with his rocket science of a plan to play matchmaker for his son. He gave Jon a light pat on the back, and they set off into their car, their destination: the Wayne Manor.
The silhouette of the Manor came closing in and Jon can no longer escape feeling... slightly apprehensive. Sure, he was excited to spend the weekends with Damian, but this was the Waynes they were talking about. How could he get pass his overbearingly protective big brothers?
The first son, Richard Grayson-Wayne, also simply known as Dick Grayson, is the perfect role model for anyone. He's righteous, funny, and ungodly charming. He basically had a hand in raising Damian and if it's anyone—besides Bruce—who has a say in his conquest to wed Damian, it's him. Unimaginably protective of his family, especially to the youngest.
The second son, Jason Todd-Wayne, is far from the golden Dick Grayson. He's blunt, more critical, and face that no one can get a clue on. His figure stalks just beneath Bruce by hair width. Unlike Bruce or Dick, he's a straightforward guy. However just like Dick, he's protective of his family—just not overbearingly obvious.
The third son, Timothy Drake-Wayne, or simply, Tim Drake, is the genius of the family. No one can beat him against his brains-and-glory. He's not the CEO of Wayne Enterprise for nothing. He can see right through Jon, and often it makes him feel exposed. He and Damian fights a lot. They bicker over needless things. It's hard to imagine it coming from someone so serious. At the end of the day, he will protect his brothers—that heavily includes his baby brother.
In short, they are another set of boulders he would need to lift. A finger isn't enough for this one.
Their car parked just outside the large oak doors of the manor. The family butler and surrogate grandfather stepped out to greet them in his usual posh self.
"Welcome, master Clark, young master Jonathon," said Alfred Pennyworth.
"Hey, Alfred," said Clark, slamming the car door behind him. "Sorry for the intrusion."
Alfred shook his head in amusement. "No of course not. Master Damian was really looking forward to this arrangement. It would be nice to have someone of his peers to keep him company outside work-related reasons."
From the inside of the house, they could hear Damian scream from atop the staircase: don't say such foolish things, Pennyworth!
Alfred only gave a slight chuckle. "Young master Jonathon."
"Y-yes, Alfred?"
"You will be pleased to hear that young master Damian has been planning something extraordinary for your birthday.”
Jon blacked out. By the time he woke from his dead stupor, he was already eating dinner with the Wayne's—Damian by his side guarding him from the rest of the family. The foreign animosity he received from the rest of the bats was unnerving. Truthfully Jon had never came here with the intent of snatching away their youngest, thus having the vague hostility against him was justified.
The Manor from the inside was more bleak than usual. The high walls dyed crimson red loomed bigger than the shadow he casted. Seeping aggression at every corner. It somehow made the entire room seem bigger than it already was. Just out of the corner of his eye, he could see a flash of white blaring at him with a murderous intent. Right away Jon could tell whose bellicose glare it belonged to. He could tell exactly the glare he saw was Jason's. Just a wink from him could probably send cold shivers down his spine. Jon was sure of it.
So much for vague... this is outright brutal.
At the end of the long table sat the brooding dark knight himself, Batman. Now, more appropriately, Bruce Wayne, the father of his crush and a very, very, displeased dad.
It seems that Damian has had enough. A wonder at his hands slamming on the dinner table, an annoyed scowl directed at his beloved family.
"Will you all quit staring at him like he's some wild animal, please?!"
Jon was touched by the concern Damian is showing him.
"But he IS, baby bat. Look at him!" Dick protested from his seat. He pointed an accusing finger at their guest. "No way we're letting him take you on a date. He's not laying a single hand on you!"
The youngest bat rubbed his temples. "Richard, you are being difficult. And it is NOT a date. It's just hangout for his birthday."
"He's right though, demon baby. He's not here to 'hangout'. I bet that's just a ruse to get you to lower your guard down so he could ask you to be his boyfriend," Tim tutted. The middle son trying his best to not look disgusted at his dinner plate.
Well… he is right.
"You've got some nerve, kid," Was all Jason said. But it was intimidating enough for anything else to be said.
Jon couldn't even think of getting in between their argument. Every chance he got Damian was faster and darted back at every single comment laid. Jon was super in strength, but he could never beat Damian in an argument. At some point, even their father got involved.
"I never agreed to let him date you."
"It is not a date, father. And I do not need your blessing to date who I want."
"Yes, you do, Damian."
"Under what jurisdiction?"
"My roof. My rules," Simple and straightforward. The authoritative figure of the house has spoken.
In any case, daddy beloved hasn't forgotten about Jon at all because he felt the need to point his fangs at the poor boy. "Jon. I am watching you."
"Y-yes sir!"
That was apparently the last straw. Damian stood from his chair and grabbed Jon, who was halfway through his meal, to his room. "All of you are being ridiculous!"
The warmth of Damian's hand was snug around his. The long, dark green sweater suited Damian so much that it made Jon realise he hasn't complimented the big yet. He missed the chance many times over dinner—both from his dead stupor and the family's squabble. So, he took the opportunity now.
"You look very pretty, Dami."
Damian was stopped dead in his tracks, as if enchanted by Jonathan's charming words. Just a second ago he was in a disagreement with his family. It was funny how Jonathon could switch off his irritation against his father and brothers.
"What are you blabbering about..."
His face grew red from toe-curling embarrassment.
Jon was bashful now too. "Well, I couldn't say it at dinner... so I thought to tell you now."
Damian looked away, unsure of whether or not to smile or runaway. He grabbed Jon's hand again and continued their walk to his room.
Wait—
Was this God’s way of testing his will? To let him die by being in the same room as the Bat's son, Jon felt like he should be grateful, but the only thing he could feel is the very impending doom of his demise inching closer if he steps even a single foot inside Damian's forbidden chamber. The thought of having Damian close was lovely. Absolutely so. But he would be caught dead the morning after, happiness covering his deceased body.
He could already imagine the sacred cute-adorable-sleepy-morning-face that was about to be engraved in his mind.
True to his sweet curse, the moment he stepped into Damian's room, he nearly fainted the 2nd time that day. His nose took a breather-full of Damian's cologne. It's smelt of cherries and sweet nature. He could even smell natural scents—like his pets: two dogs, a cat, a cow and lastly a ghastly giant demon bat comfortably named Goliath.
The high ceilings refused to be illuminated by the lanterns hanging in his room. It was dark all-over, the corners looked as if it were a portal for demons to crawl out at night. The walls were pristine, yet it looked damp from now solemn the chamber was. Any light that would come from the window is gone now that it was night. It didn't help that Damian's decor was also as dark as it gets. It contrasted with his room completely—whose ceilings were covered with glow-in-the-dark stars, whose walls were plastered from head to toe with posters, whose clothes scattered all over like a hurricane.
Other than that, it blended well with the rest of the manor. Damian's room felt a tad bit more alive than the rest. Dick never stayed home. He has his own apartment somewhere in Blüdhaven. Goes the same for Jason and Tim. Tim, recently moved out just a few months ago so the manor had gotten even more desolate. The rooms the brothers occupy isn't empty by any means. It was just still.
Jon reckoned they would leave soon after dinner today.
"Put your bag there," said Damian, pointing towards a vacant spot in his walk-in wardrobe. Jon did as tell and obediently took his bag to where Damian's finger was pointed at.
Jonathon could probably already guess, but he'd thought to have Damian confirm his suspicion. As normal as he could, he strode over to Damian who was fidgeting around the outlandishly large bed. Awfully awkward. The both of them were.
"Um—Dami," said Jon. Damian has his back turned against him. It saddens Jon, but it couldn't be helped. "Where do I sleep tonight?"
Jon received a pillow to his face immediately. "Isn't it obvious? On my bed. You're not planning on sleeping on the floor, are you?"
Jon fainted the 2nd time that night. Only for a split second did Damian held himself accountable for the adoring smile that came on. Gently he shook Jon. He was aware of the appetite Jon has. Stealing someone away in the middle of a spoonful is, what he could imagine, unpleasant.
There was a problem that he began to notice. Jonathon was too cute for his own damn good. His unconscious shocked face made is difficult for Damian to wake him up. Jon’s wavy hair was sprawled all over his carpeted floor. It brought Damian back to how innocent Jon was.
He and Jon were total opposites. He’s the devil and Jon’s the angel. If he were to guess, Jonathon must’ve thought the same too. After all, how could someone like him could even think of mingling with the son of hope reincarnate.
“Um—so! So, I’ll take this side of the bed!” Jon said bashfully.
To which Damian shook his head.
“No need,” started Damian. “My bed is big enough for the both of us. You don’t have to be so tense.”
Damian is the son of a billionaire. There was nothing his father wouldn’t give if he ever were to demand for it. If he wanted a new room, then his father would, without missing a heartbeat, build him an entire quarter dedicated. So, the idea of Damian sharing his space in his palace was appalling—in a good way, of course. It was appalling to Jon’s heart. It probably wasn’t an exaggeration to say that he will die of a heart attack one of these days. If it’s not by the hands of Mr. Dark and Brooding, then he’ll die by Damian’s undeterred charisma.
For once in their life, they both felt like crawling into their own skin. Damian was red all over. His refusal to meet Jon’s eyes does nothing to hide his embarrassment. Jon wasn’t fairing all that well either. He was going to rocket to moon in seconds if this awkward silence continues.
Once again, Damian proved to be the bigger person and stood up from his bed. “I’m going to shower first.”
‘What an angel…’ swooned Jon.
“Oh! Uh, sure! Haha…” replied Jon. “I-I’ll just play with Titus…”
“Jon, Titus is outside.”
“Oh…”
Damian finally let out a small laugh. Instantly, Jon was in tune to his voice. It was like a love song playing in his head. He followed along the beat, remembering the hiccups and the way his eyes would twinkle. He watched how Damian’s shoulder moved up and down as if hearing the funniest joke known to man. Jon felt alive. He was falling in love all over again.
Jon couldn’t wait for his date (not really) tomorrow.
“Jon—“
The young boy could vaguely hear someone saying his name. It was distant, remote, with a slight echo. He couldn’t pinpoint why it sounded so familiar.
“Jon—!”
Odd, it sounds similar to what he’ll hear when his super-hearing would involuntarily turn on.
“Jooonnn—“
Loud, obnoxious. Worst of all, that voice doesn’t sound anything like Damian—
Immediately, Jon’s eyes snapped open to a charming, yet murderous grin. It belonged to none other than Damian’s eccentric older brother; Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson Wayne. He was on his side, head resting on his palm, looking like a menace to society. His expression could only be described as someone who had seen a heinous crime being committed; flabbergast. Said heinous crime most definitely being an intruder on his baby brother’s bed.
Jon swerved to the other side as quickly as he could. Sure, he was close to Damian, and he would love to get close to the rest of his family too—but not THIS close. Any closer and he’ll see the atoms making up the wayward eldest brother’s undeniably handsome face.
Jon was not ready for that.
‘The Waynes got really good genes though,’ commented Jon. He observed, noting the nice, structured face, the same luscious black hair, good stature (maybe Damian fell a bit short on height), a trait that the Wayne men shared. ‘No wonder Damian came out like that.’
He completely forgot they weren’t bounded by blood.
“Oh good, you’re up!” Gleamed Dick. He didn’t spare Jon the same friendliness as his half-hearted grin. Just like Jason from last night, Jon could envision their plan of homicide unfolding right before his very eyes. This time, he could see it much clearer. His grave was also a very concerning addition to their make-believe murder case.
Unbeknownst to Jon, it wasn’t just the first brother who was preying on him. Until he bumped into a wall-like structure that he then realised he and Dick weren’t the only ones on Damians’ bed that morning. Behind the young half-Kryptonian, the ‘wall’ he collided into, was none other than the second bat. He was a replica of his older brother, sporting an identical pose and accusation against Jon. Save for the lack of a red helmet, the man was clad in his Redhood gear. He was twiddling with something heavy in his hand. In fact, two of them. It glowered a bright shade of green between his rough fists and Jon wouldn’t chance to know. Just the uniform was enough to inform him of everything that needed to be briefed on; either run away or face them.
The boy could only pray Damian comes to his rescue. Like he always does.
“Should I ask the amusement park to close today?”
Oh great, they’re all here. Jon wishes he could groan himself a pair of wings and swoop Damian off the face of the Earth with him. Together, they’ll build a house on another planet, and they’ll live happily ever after. If Damian preferred, he could just build their little house by himself and let Damian watch him work. Either way, it’ll be a happily ever after. Just him, Damian, and the world. Maybe their pets too, Damian would be so much happier if he had his furry companions along.
If things were that easy, he would’ve been getting along swimmingly with the rest of the Bats by now.
“Yes,” came the older brothers reply almost simultaneously.
Agreeable was hardly a thing for the family. They argued daily—even when the brothers are miles apart. They’d pick fights over who makes the best batch of pancakes, who ran the fastest, which power rangers were better. The list is never ending, and it grows as they age. When it came to their youngest, however, that was another story told in a different tone, and a different narrative. Their father is especially a very good narrator in this tale.
Before any park actually gets shut down for good, Jon heard the sound of relief.
“No. You will do no such thing, Timothy. And get off that chair. That’s where Alfred the cat sits.”
Damian exited his dresser, already prim and proper and dressed to perfection. There wasn’t a single hair out of place. Superboys’ sensitive nose easily picked up a peculiar scent oozing off him. It wasn’t Damian’s normal cologne. This out of norm smelt like lavenders and pretty flowers (Damian was plenty already). It wasn’t a bad smell on him, Jon was saying it was an unexpected change.
Jonathon Kent’s instinct was to snap his full attention towards Damian. It went with a loud ‘pop!’. Whether he heard it or not, he chose not to comment on it. Neither did the Wayne boys present. He wasn’t the only one with a natural protocol though.
“Dami!!” Dick was like a volcano. His innate response to seeing his baby brother was to erupt into a loud explosion and hail adoring affection by latching himself onto the younger like a leech. He took full advantage of his ‘thou-can-touch-thee’ privilege very seriously, expressing it through rabid unapologetic head-locking he conveniently calls ‘hugging’. It wrung the living daylights out of the poor boy every time he did. A queue of pampering would routinely come after.
“Good morning!”
“Awww, you used the shampoo I bought you! How does it feel? It’s good for your hair, right? It’ll make it softer.”
“You wanna get breakfast with your good ol’ big brother?”
“We can watch some movies too if you want!”
Meanwhile, Jason was deliberately putting himself between him and Damian. He was whistling a happy tune as he did so. Despite still lounging, the man found perfect pace in being a nuisance. His huge body was blocking everything in sight. Jon couldn’t tell if he found it annoying that he couldn’t contact his crush or annoying that he couldn’t see nothing at all. Jason probably realised as a smirk resumed on his face.
Thankfully Tim was being quiet. He was still irking Damian by being on Alfred’s chair, so he wasn’t completely innocent. Unless you were free from his radar, that was usually never a good sign. Jon would rather ignore his devious planning, to be honest. He had just risen from the dead moments ago after all. Getting harassed so early was not, and would never be, his ideal morning kick-off.
There were many strange things Damian found himself getting used to; Jons’ imprinting behaviour; Richards’ excessive show of love; Jason’s kooky protection; and Timothy’s awkward way of bonding. He should also point out his own father’s skittish parenting, but Damian wouldn’t dream of criticising him when he’s trying his utmost best in raising him. Thinking back, Damian shouldn’t even find himself getting used to these behaviours in the first place. His brothers are a work. They were so clingy at times; he could barely walk anywhere without one of them hanging off his back. It came to a point where he was surprised his brothers had no problem moving away from home. It was a spectacle to behold when Dick first did it. It didn’t make it any less of a big event when Tim moved out.
‘You won’t miss me, will you?’ Tim asked him.
‘Of course not,’ lied Damian.
Now every time they visit, it made their company feel more…special.
Damian enjoyed the company. That’s something he kept to himself.
“No!” Yelled Damian, all the while tugging himself out of Dick’s trapping grasp. “Get out of my room! All of you!”
“But Babybat—!”
“No. Get. Out. Now!”
He painstakingly pushed every one of his precious brothers through the door—each one budding a cry of disbelief. Jason was the most difficult to handle. He stayed rooted to the floor when Damian was scraping the carpet to push him. When they were all out, he slammed the door in their faces to make sure they never get back in. Idiots, all of them.
Jon was still sitting on the bed when all this unravelled. It was comical watching a boy kick out adults twice his size the way a child would. He was panting, he was puffing. Damian was not happy.
Once he was sure the coast was clear, Damian rapt his attention back to Jon. “I’m sorry about them.”
“No, it’s okay!” Jon stood between every laugh. “You have a nice family.”
Everyone within a mile radius could sense that lie. Just moments ago, he was calling Jason names. Damian luckily didn’t pick up on the animosity.
“Ahem, you should get ready. I’ll wait here so we can go together.”
Damian’s bathroom was big—like everything else in this house. In his minds’ eye, he expected Damian’s bathroom to look pristine white and fade into whiter. He didn’t know how to react when he was greeted with a ‘normal’, typical bathroom.
Jon could sense the older bats outside Damian’s room. Dick was restless, moving to-and-fro around the hall. From the other two silhouettes, Jon guessed the one lying motionless was Tim and the one leaning against the windowsill was Jason. They were like the moon orbiting the Earth. Even after Damian kicked them out, they’re still hovering about, refusing to leave his side.
“Jason, what do we do?!”
“Dunno. We can kidnap him.”
“Ki—Tim! Oh, God. He’s dead.”
The sound of water running did little good to drown down his thoughts. He was having a difficult time breaking through with the Waynes and he fear they will never accept him. Son of Superman be damned, he was just Jon Kent in their eyes—one lanky growing kid with a massive crush on Gotham’s ice-cold prince. There was no way they’ll accept him.
Massive mountains to traverse through, Jon was off to a rocky start.
He sighed, turning off the showers to step into the cold air. He felt his skin tense from contact. It prickled every being in his body. He understood that they were just trying to protect their little brother. Jon understood. Because he would do the same to Damian in a heartbeat. He shouldn’t expose himself to defeat so easily, he knew. His moral was low, but it wasn’t that low. He also knows how rocky the road was. He is aware of it. But he’s willing to go through the journey to reach Damian.
After getting ready, he returned outside to meet the awaiting boy.
Damian was bathing under the sunlight, reading a book like an ethereal being. Fairy dust was sprinkling around him, making him glow even brighter. He was soft. And Jon was in love again.
“Hi, sorry that took so long,” smiled Jon.
Damian easily placed down his book. It was in all just a distraction for his growing anticipation. Regardless of how he looks on the outside, his stomach was feeling the same butterflies as Jon.
Shame Jon doesn’t realise this.
Now, standing face to face, Jon took a moment to look over his form. Every inch of him, Jon came to adore. Damian was, inevitably, Damian. If Jon hadn’t met him before, he would say Damian was nothing but a snobby rich kid. But he was a shade too many, more than what Jon had expected. He was inches taller. If he flew, he would be heads taller than Damian. Though no one, he is sure, would be able to make him kneel so willingly in front of him.
He peers up at the older boy, eyes glazing with smitten love.
No matter how many times he says it, he would never get tired of the word ‘love’. There were too many things he wants to say, but ‘love’ sums most of it.
He opens his arms, stretching it towards Damain, waiting for his call.
“Ready?” He asked.
Damian hesitantly replies. Soon, he found himself in the arms of Jon. He was being cradled more like a baby than a passenger.
“Let’s go,” said Damain.
Outside of his door, Dick was still trying to wake Tim up from his coma. He was out cold. The sleepless nights are finally getting to him. Not long, Jason tapped his back.
“What, Jason?” Hissed Dick, still shaking Tim awake, mumbling something about ‘this is important’ and ‘get the hell up’.
Jason still had his eyes out. “You may want to look at this.”
Dick confusingly follows Jason’s gaze. Upon seeing what it was, he nearly spluttered.
“Is that why he’s refusing our ride offers?” He points towards the floating figure that is Jon. Worse, in his arms was their baby brother.
He expected Damian to refuse because he thinks they would be too nosy (which they are not). Or maybe because he thinks they’re an embarrassment (which they are also not). Not this. He wasn’t expecting him to hitch a ride on Superboy. He wasn’t expecting his seat to be in damn Superboy’s arms.
“Seems about right,” replied Jason, voice still even despite his brother going monkey.
Dick screamed at the top of his lungs. His brother instinct going haywire.
And as quick as he started, it was gone instantly. It was replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Boys, suit up. It’s time to roll out.”
“Please do me a favour and never say that again, Dickhead.”