Chapter Text
The long strands of grass prickled Jon’s unmarred forearms as he snapped brittle stems with experience. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming either. A strong, sharp scent seeped into him through his pores, refreshing him as a whole.
Snap, snap, snap
Little dots of plant juice painted the end of his soft baby hands, fingers coated in a clean scent that clung to him like the warmth after a bath. His mother had asked him to gather a handful of mint for dinner, but he picked way more than he needed. He liked the way it smelled. It reminded him of toothpaste. Not the strawberry-flavored one that he personally uses, but Damian’s toothpaste. The toothpaste that was way too spicy for Jon, but he had still insisted on using it to impress Damian during their last sleepover at the manor.
The sun was high and gently ran its warm hands through the hairs on the back of his neck, tickling him. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the feeling of the sun playing with him, charging him with solar energy and hope. Yet, he felt nervous, and accidentally scratched himself while snapping the green, minty stems.
Jon knows eavesdropping is bad, but he couldn’t help overhearing his father talking about the Waynes coming over for dinner, and that made him slightly skittish. That meant Damian–his best friend, his crush–would be coming. That thought plagued Jon’s mind. Did he look good, did he look okay? Would he smell like refreshing mint and freshly mown grass, or would he smell like sweat and anxiety? What if Damian could smell the fluttering excitement in him?
He pushed those thoughts aside for a moment, catching his breath. He hadn’t even realized that he had almost started to hyperventilate–and if his father had heard him, he’d better have an excuse ready in case he questions.
”Batman told me to always be prepared!” Oh, who is he kidding? Batman would never.
“I’m auditioning for a role as a kettle.” Now that’s just absurd.
How about “I saw a mantis!” that sounds too fake, Jonathan Samuel Kent, son of Superman and Lois Lane is not afraid of some oversized bug that hops on crazily long back legs and has a noticeably big body and disturbingly big eyes–
“Son, is everything okay?” Clark starts, only to be interrupted when Jon shrieks in surprise, and awkwardly blurts out the first thing that came to his mind.
“Just… testing if the atmosphere is still here! You know, um—safety first!”
Really, Jon?
Clark flashes him a warm, lopsided smile, before ruffling his hair in a fatherly way, almost like an unspoken promise, that Jon can always come talk to him if he ever needed a shoulder to lean on. Then he retreated inside to help Lois with the dinner. (“Do not touch the oven, mister! You’ll burn the house down!”)
Jon mentally kicked himself for being so clumsy, stumbling over his words in front of his father. How could he let the older boy affect him like this? It was just a childish crush, right? It would pass eventually. When he grew up, he would laugh at himself for being so silly, falling for his best friend, his partner in crime, his—
Besides, Damian wasn’t even into boys. He was head over heels for a girl, someone he only ever referred to as Flatline over the phone. Oh, how Jon wished he were a girl right now.
He sighs and stands up. A few mint leaves slipping out of his grip and drifting silently on the moist, green lawn, never to be found again. Jon looks down at the fallen leaves, still visible in the grass, debating whether he should pick them up. He didn’t. It’s just a few leaves. He has plenty more in his hands. He turns his back to the spilled leaves and marched towards the house instead, clutching two handfuls of mint–twice as much as his mother had asked for.