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Summary
"You don't seem to be in the mood to 'help' me, you seem to be in the mood to do something else."
"Mister, I think you're right," Jon decided, and before Damian could say or do anything, Jon grabbed him by the hips and lifted him onto the workbench behind them, ignoring Damian's surprised exclamation only to look him in the eye with an amused sneer.
"Stupid farm man strength," Damian taunted, punching him lightly in the chest and licking his lips at the glint of desire in Jon's eyes. "What are your intentions?" he asked with a hint of irony as he threw his arms around Jon's neck, and Jon lifted a corner of his mouth in a smirk.
"What does it look like to you?"
Damian feigned confusion, widening his eyelids to look around like a fawn blinded by headlights before turning back to look at Jon. "Would you like to do it in the barn, Mr. Kent?" he asked, parting his lips theatrically as he saw Jon fight back a laugh.
"Are you afraid of straws, Mr. Wayne?"
"You're an idiot."
"Your idiot"Series