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Theoretically, Damian should have known better than to egg on the press. After all, he’d been raised in the spotlight since his mother had dropped him on his father’s doorstep, trained in PR perfection, and generally had distaste for the scandals or big things his family would cause, purposefully or not.
But sometimes it was just so hard not to, especially when it was so amusing to see them scouting for any crumb of information, drawing their own far-fetched conclusions that made them seem even stupider to those who knew the truth.
The annual Wayne gala had arrived, and speculations about just who the Wayne boys would be bringing as their dates were up in the air. Reporters were getting antsy as they always did that time of year, sloppily hidden and jumping for scoops. Tabloids were printing off theory after theory, each more laughable than the last, especially about the youngest Wayne.
This year, Damian was finally considered of age to be taking a proper date, despite the fact that they had never managed to catch him with a romantic partner of any kind—or at least with one of the female variety.
Reporters swarmed the entrances of the gala, taking pictures and brandishing their microphones like swords. Damian scoffed as he looked outside the tinted window of their limo.
“Vultures, the lot of them.”
“You’ve had years to get used to it by now.” Tim said from across the car. “Complaining only makes it worse.”
He scowled as his eldest brother pulled him into a headlock, threatening to mess up his delicately arranged hair.
“Lighten up, Baby Bat! Jon goes every year, and I think some of your school friends will show up.”
“Tt.” He made a valiant effort to push his brother away without messing up his outfit, straightening his jacket, and smoothing out the wrinkles that weren’t there.
“Who’re you tryn’ to impress?” Jason snorted, legs crossed over. Damian blessed his training, keeping his face straight and his heartbeat steady while fighting to cool his rising body temperature.
“Just because I despise these things does not mean I wish to go looking like a slob. Although I suppose the sentiment is not often shared.”
He looked around the car, his father in the corner, Tim on his phone, Duke with his headphones blocking out the conversations, Jason with a book, and Dick at his side scrolling through social media. Cassandra and Stephanie had taken the other limo with Barbara, insisting it was a girls-only deal. Tim had decided to go with Bart, Cassie, and Kon, much to Bruce’s despair, and the three of them would be arriving on their own, in whatever shape Damian couldn’t say.
No one responded to his quite obvious jab, as was to be expected. His brothers often remarked that he would get prickly in times like these, which was completely preposterous, but that wasn't the point. The point of this was that they were pulling up to the entrance and would be completely bombarded by people who hadn’t anything better to do than ask invasive questions and draw incriminating conclusions.
“Time to face the music!” His father said cheerily, already in his Brucie Wayne, father of six, not including the in-laws persona.
“Dying again sounds nice, actually.” Jason muttered, shoving Dick out after Bruce. He went next, followed by Tim, Duke, and then Damian himself.
“Damian, Damian, who’s your date for tonight? You seem to be missing one!”
“Mr. Drake-Wayne, care to comment on the recent Wayne Enterprises partnership?”
“Mr. Wayne, how is your most recent investment?”
They pushed past, stopping only to smile and wave at the cameras, making it safely through the doors and into the ballroom. Damian slipped away as Tim and Bruce were swarmed, with Dick and Duke veering off to the side to meet the girls. Jason had gone off in search of Roy Harper, no doubt, seeing as he’d invited the red-haired man as his date.
He found a relatively nice spot to hide in, scanning the room to see if any of his Gotham Academy schoolmates had been invited and if he had to avoid them. Finding none, he picked up a flute offered by a passing waiter (sparkling cider, goddammit.) and prayed to whatever deity would listen that no old people would come by to remark on how big he was getting and if he’d like to meet their granddaughter?
The dances had long since started, and he amused himself watching his family switch between making fools of themselves and actually being sweet. There was his sister, Cassandra leading Stephanie into an elegant dance, catching the awe of partygoers.
And then there was Tim’s group, all of whom were failing spectacularly. Damian really didn’t expect much else, simply taking a picture for blackmail. As he was angling his camera, he heard rustling from behind him, making light steps as if someone were barely touching the ground. He relaxed, not even pretending to be surprised as hands came over his eyes and a chin came to rest on his shoulder.
“Guess who!” The voice of his farm boy came to his ears. “You only get one, so make sure it's good.”
“My significant annoyance.” Damian smirked, putting his flute to the side and tapping the hands over his eyes three times in a gentle gesture.
“If that’s what you’re labeling this.” Jon grumbled, dropping his hands and glancing around to see how hidden they were before slipping his arms around Damian's waist. “I also accept better half, significant other, romantic partner, boyyyyyfriend~”
“Never say it like that again.” Damian sighed, letting the taller boy sway them back and forth to the soft music.
They had a few seconds of silence before Jon quickly dropped his arms and pushed Damian away. Damian getting the hint and grabbing the flute of cider. The two of them went back into more of the open space, leaving some room between them.
“Hey Mom.” Jon waved, Damian just barely behind him.
“Mrs. Lane.” He looked to the side. “Father.”
“You can call me Lois, Damian.” She said as she had since the first year of his and Jon's friendship. “Where did you boys disappear to?”
“Not causing any trouble, I hope.” Bruce grinned next to her, reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair.
Damian dodged, with Jon standing in front of him dutifully. “No, Father. If I wished to cause a scandal, I would have done it by now.”
“I know, son.” Bruce said, tired parent bleeding into his tone. “Just watch what you’re doing. Some of the more bloodthirsty ones are out tonight, and not the ones like the Kents.”
Damian’s nose wrinkled, rolling his eyes and tugging on Jon’s suit jacket. Oh, that was something he hadn’t noticed before. “I understand, Father. However, if I am provoked, I cannot say I will mind my tongue.”
Bruce’s response was lost in the crowd as Damian pulled Jon along, unwilling to lose his partner in the masses. He wound up at a table where his siblings were residing, the two sitting at a respectable distance from each other.
“Babies of the families!” Dick cheered as they sat down, Jon and Damian with similar expressions of distaste.
They were roped into the conversation, inching closer and closer with each moment. Damian felt an ankle hook over his, and he looked up to see Jon carrying on speaking, waving with his hands and laughing. He would be content to listen to him ramble forever.
God, he was getting soft.
His other leg was kicked from under the table, and he turned in that direction, defense ready. He dropped it as he realized it was just Cass, who raised a teasing eyebrow at him.
“Have something to say, Cassandra?” He gritted out, daring her to say something. There was a reason Jon and he had kept their relationship under wraps for almost a year, and it certainly wasn’t for the press.
One of Damian’s siblings or Connor would find out and spread it to the next until the entirety of their stupidly large family knew, endlessly hounding both of them for the rest of the year. They would make a big deal out of nothing, insisting they couldn’t go anywhere together without a chaperone or the press seeing them, even though they were 17, dammit.
Cass looked between the two of them, shaking her head but keeping the smug look that had begun to rise. For the love of all that was holy, he hoped there wasn’t an on-going bet that she had just won. His siblings never did tire of humiliating him.
He pulled away from Jon, getting closer to his sister for better privacy. ”You are not to tell anyone; whatever you think is going on is absolutely not.”
She shrugged at him before motioning to their father on the other side of the room. ”Better to tell now. Press are hungry.”
Better a sweet teen love story than whatever scandal was on the corner? Damian looked around their table, noting the disappearance of some couples, knowing she was correct. Leave it to him to save his siblings’ asses, yet again.
Besides, he’d rather tell them himself than have everyone find out from the gossip chain that was the super-youth community. Now, how to go about it?
”Hey.” Damian tapped on the table to catch Jon’s attention, speaking low enough that only someone with super-hearing could reach. ”Do you remember your ballroom dance lessons?”
A quick, nearly impalpable nod followed. Damian hummed in interest before asking, ”If you think you’re ready, we’ll announce it tonight. Ask me to dance in a few minutes when this dance ends and the other starts.”
The twitch of his lips let Damian know Jon was fighting a smile and struggling to keep his nonchalance, only nodding again.
As the dance ended and the next one began, Jon stood slowly, bowing at the waist in an overly dramatic show, looking up with a grin.
“May I have this dance, darlin’?” A hand was held out, but he stayed in a bowing position. Murmurs and muffled laughter came from their siblings, Damon rolling his eyes, the action offset by the fond expression and hint of pink on his face.
“I suppose you may.” He placed his hand in Jon’s, following until they were swept into the dance. They could both feel the eyes on them, one more accustomed than the other.
Damian could feel Jon tense and caught his eyes, impossibly blue, flecks of purple highlighting it all. They would always be the thing he could never fully capture in his artwork—icy pools, both still and stormy, pulling him in until he felt like he was drawing in their waters.
”Don’t mind them; eyes on me, my love.” He murmured, his hand tightening from where it was draped across his shoulder and neck. Jon gave a lopsided smile, spinning them around with the rest of the pairs on the dance floor.
”Your dad is being followed.” He remarked. ”You know this means we’re going to have to talk to them. Our parents won’t be happy this is how we decided to come out.”
“Better than news getting wind of where Todd and Harper are right now, or someone accusing my father of something.” Damian lowered his voice. “And now I can show you off, beloved. Don’t you want everyone to know I'm yours instead of speculating about all the people I could be dating?”
Jon made a huffing noise, a flush making his freckles more prominent. “You're so mean to me, D.”
“It’s not mean; it’s true.” Damian chuckled as they stepped in time with the slow rhythm. “And I'll use my knowledge of you to my advantage.”
“I'll just have to keep you happy, then.” Jon tapped his forehead with Damian's gently as he turned to face him, the other boy’s cheeks darkening.
They bow to each other as Damian whispers in response, “That shouldn’t be hard; you’ve already done it. You, Jon Kent, have my whole heart, and I have yours, and that is what makes me happy.”
“Oh my God.” Jon pressed a hand to his cheek, his face going red. “You can’t just say things like that in public; I'll explode.”
They stepped off the floor, forgetting momentarily that they had just given a major opening to expose their relationship. No one was making a big deal out of it yet, despite them all noticing. They’d stopped paying attention to the stares fairly quickly, so neither could really tell when they stopped.
Bruce was a few heads away, Lois dragging Clark through the crowds, trying to beat out Vicki Vale, who was on a warpath to them.
“We’re fucked.” Jon muttered to his boyfriend, a rare public curse leaving him. There was one more escape route open, and Damian tugged him towards it, suddenly accosted by a recorder in his face.
”Shit.” Damian backed up into Jon, who stumbled, righting himself and his boyfriend quickly. “Uh, hello? If you’d like an interview, please schedule with my father.
“Please, Mr. Wayne, just a moment of your time.” A reporter in a loose dress shirt and fitted slacks blocked their path, big hoop earrings swinging.
Watching theirs, Damian subconsciously touched the gold cuff in his own ear that connected to a chain in his lobe. “I don’t think I can-”
“Tell me, one question that I know is on everyone’s mind right now-HEY!” They yelped as they were hip-checked to the side—another two recorders in his face now.
Damian looked up in surprise as Vicki Vale replaced the earlier reporter, who was still holding out their recorder. Lois came out of the crowd, pulling her husband by his tie and holding out her own device. Clark had a notepad and a nervous look, scribbling down whatever Lois was telling him to.
"Well, Damian, let’s hear it. Is the Wayne Heir gay?” Vicki waited expectantly, with Lois and the other reporter fuming beside her.
Damian looked at the three black devices in front of him, looked at his father, who was coming up behind him, and then at the Kents, Lois, who was mouthing that he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to.
Then he looked at Jon. His Jon. He was tired of hiding and waiting, and he knew Jon was too. His taller boyfriend gave a tap three times to his arm, a silent permission on his side and a strengthening ‘I love you.’
He shoved down the nerves and willed his hands to stop becoming clammy, smirking at them as he leaned into the microphones.
“I don’t know.” Damian grinned, slipping his hand into Jon’s and squeezing it gently. “Maybe a little.”
Jon covered his mouth with his free hand, trying not to laugh, his mother giving him a nod. The amateur reporter smiled at him, Vicki lunging forward, before Bruce coughed loudly from behind them.
“If I could have a moment with my son, please.” He gave a pointed look at the two of them. ”Without recorders.”
Vicki seemed about to retort; the other reported nodding frantically and scurrying away, not so subtly bumping into her as they passed, causing Vicki to follow after and yell.
“I know I said I wouldn't cause anything with the media, but-” Damian began, stopping as his father placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“While I wish you would have told me first so I could deal with the press properly, I want you to know that I'm proud of you and I love you how you are.”
He paused, confused, before he realized what he had technically just done and what his father was trying to say.
“Oh. Uh, thank you, Father.”
“I would just like to say that I knew it.” Lois cut in, saving them from further awkwardness. “Jon couldn’t hide a secret about you in his life.”
“Mom!” Jon dropped his face to hide in Damian’s shoulder. “They don’t need to hear about that.”
“I would actually love to.” His boyfriend smirked as he groaned.
“I’m breaking up with you.” Jon informed him, his voice muffled by the suit.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Damian reached up to tug on his curls. “You would perish without me, farm boy.”
“I would miss you too much.” He lifted his head from where it was buried in his shoulder before flushing and hiding again as his father cleared his throat.
“Well, as lovely as this all is, you both need to be talked to. And sleepovers are postponed indefinitely. We are going to lay down some ground rules here, since you’re both still living with us.”
Damian sighed, while Jon groaned again. Lois laughed, reaching to ruffle both of their heads, getting the expected complaints.
"Alright, lover boys, have your night.” She tugged on Bruce's sleeve, and Clark followed them both, leaving Jon and Damian standing in the crowd.
“Wanna get out of here?” Jon whispered in his ear, his hands resting above his stomach and his chin on his shoulder.
“More than anything.” Damian responded, feeling the table with his siblings burning a hole in the side of his head.
They untangle themselves from each other, slipping into the crowds and out through a window, Jon zooming them through the cloudy Gotham sky, before landing on one of their favorite spots, the rooftop of a Wayne Enterprise building. He set Damian down gently, sitting next to him, their legs swinging over the edge.
“Well, we did that.” He bumped his shoulder, entwining his fingers with Damian’s. ”You did that.”
Damian laughed. “We did, didn’t we?”
They fell back into silence, watching the bright city lights shine below them. Damian leaned against him, letting out a breath of air. He lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to Jon’s, his taller boyfriend parting their hands to tug him closer, and then returned the gesture by kissing his temple.
There would be a media storm to deal with; siblings, parents, friends. But that was something for tomorrow.
Tonight, there were just the two of them, above the city and the lights, away from the cameras, where they could just be.