Chapter Text
Dick was draped over the velvet armchair, his legs dangling over the side, while Jason occupied the sofa, taking up a significant amount of space with his 6’2” frame. Tim and Duke were engaged in a low-volume debate about a new tech rollout, and Steph and Cass were sharing a bowl of popcorn, whispering and laughing. It was a rare moment of domestic stillness, the kind of afternoon where the only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional rustle of a magazine.
Damian stood by the fireplace, his posture rigid and his expression carefully neutral. He cleared his throat, a sharp sound that cut through the room's casual atmosphere. Everyone looked up, sensing a shift in his energy. He didn't look at them directly, instead focusing on a point just above the mantle.
"I have an announcement to make," Damian said, his voice steady. "I would like you all to meet my boyfriend."
The silence that followed was not the usual shock of a Wayne family revelation, but rather a collective, synchronized blink. Dick actually slid off the armchair with a soft *thump*, his eyes wide, while Jason paused mid-stretch, his arm frozen in the air. They all looked at Damian, who remained as stiff as a statue, then looked toward the hallway. The air in the room shifted as a small, hesitant figure stepped into the light of the living room, guided by the gentle hand of a tall, familiar blonde boy.
Ryota was remarkably small, barely reaching the shoulder of the boy beside him. He wore a soft, oversized sweater and held a collapsible white cane in his free hand, his eyes unfocused and shimmering with a quiet, distant light. He looked less like a boyfriend and more like a misplaced woodland sprite who had accidentally wandered into a gothic manor. Beside him, Jon smiled warmly, his 6’2” frame providing a protective canopy for the shorter boy.
"Everyone, this is Ryota," Damian announced, his voice softening in a way that made Tim raise an eyebrow. "Ryota, these are the insufferable people I told you about."
Ryota shrunk slightly, his shoulders hiking up toward his ears. He didn't speak, but his fingers curled instinctively into the sleeve of Jon’s jacket. The suddenness of six pairs of eyes boring into him seemed to make him want to evaporate on the spot. He leaned closer to Jon, his voice a tiny, melodic murmur that barely reached the coffee table. "Hello," he whispered, his head tilting slightly as he tried to locate the sources of the breathing in the room.
Dick was the first to recover, his natural buoyancy overriding the shock. He sprang up from the floor with an energetic bounce, though he consciously slowed his movements as he noticed Ryota’s slight flinch. "Hello! I'm Dick," he said, his voice pitched in a warm, welcoming tone. "It is so great to finally meet you, Ryota. Damian has mentioned you—well, he’s mentioned that he was seeing someone, though he was very vague about it."
Ryota’s head tilted toward Dick’s voice, his expression tentative. He didn't pull away from Jon, but he did lean slightly forward, as if trying to map out the space through sound. "It's nice to meet you," he murmured, his voice barely louder than before. He seemed to be vibrating with a quiet nervousness, his fingers still gripped tightly on the fabric of Jon’s sleeve.
Jason shifted on the sofa, his large frame creaking. He didn't stand—knowing that a 6’2” man looming over a 5’1” stranger might be a bit much—but he offered a small, genuine wave that Ryota couldn't see. "Welcome to the madhouse, kid," Jason said, his voice lacking its usual edge. "Anyone who can put up with Damian for more than an hour deserves a medal, let alone a seat at the table."
Damian shot Jason a look of mild annoyance, though there was no real heat in it. "Ignore Jason; he believes his lack of social grace is a personality trait," Damian replied, though he stepped closer to Ryota, his hand finding the small of the other boy's back. The gesture was subtle, but the protective shift in Damian's posture was evident. He wasn't just introducing a partner; he was shielding him.
Jon gave Ryota’s hand a supportive squeeze, his presence acting as a steady anchor. "He's a bit shy," Jon explained, his voice radiating the kind of effortless warmth that usually made him the glue of any social group. "But he's the bravest person I know. He actually walked most of the way from the driveway himself."
Ryota beamed, a small, genuine smile lighting up his face. The tension in his shoulders eased just a fraction as he felt the collective curiosity of the room shift from shock to genuine interest. He shifted his grip on the white cane, tapping it lightly against the polished hardwood floor to get a better sense of the room's dimensions. "The house is... very big," Ryota whispered, his head tilting toward the high ceilings. "It sounds like it has a lot of echoes."
"It does," Steph chimed in, sliding off the sofa to approach him. She stopped a few feet away, giving him plenty of space. "Most of those echoes are just Jason complaining about the Wi-Fi or Tim talking to himself about code. You'll get used to the noise." She paused, her eyes flickering to Jon, and then back to Damian. The way Jon was standing—not just as a guide, but with a familiarity that suggested a deep, shared intimacy—started to click in her mind. She glanced at the way Damian’s hand remained possessively, yet gently, on Ryota’s back, and how Jon seemed to lean into the space between them both.
Tim, whose mind was already three steps ahead, noticed the same pattern. He leaned forward, his gaze shifting between the three of them. "So," Tim started, his voice thoughtful. "The way you three are standing... and the way Damian introduced Ryota as *his* boyfriend, but Jon is the one holding his hand..." He trailed off, a small smile forming. "Wait. Is this a 'we' situation?"