Archive of Our Own

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It had been stupid of him to take Jon to patrol Gotham in the springtime, it had been stupid of him not to warn Jon about Poison Ivy’s annoying experiments, and it had been especially stupid of him to not have insisted that Jon carry a rebreather with him.

So fucking stupid.

He’d assumed that Jon’s Kryptonian genetics would’ve made him immune to the toxin, as it did for so many other things. Apparently he had been wrong, because now Jon was… well…

Jon hadn’t let go of him for the past twenty minutes.

“Superboy, we really do need to get back to the cave.”

“No.” Jon whined, tightening his hold on Damian. “I want to stay with you.”

They were still in the warehouse where they’d been fighting Poison Ivy. As soon as she’d sprayed her newest toxin in his face, Jon had sat himself down on the floor and dragged Damian down on to his lap, giving Ivy the perfect opportunity to escape.

Damian had not been successful in getting Jon to let go of him since. Damn super-strength.

Damian sighed. “You do realize that I will be going to the cave with you?”

“It won’t be the same.”

Whatever that toxin had been, it had made Jon even more clingy than usual. Besides from the fact that Damian was literally sitting in his lap, Jon’s arms were also wrapped tightly around Damian’s middle. He got sad whenever Damian attempted to get up and then got very happy when he managed to stop him from doing so.

“You know,” Damian said, an idea suddenly hitting him. “We’d have to take my bike back to the Cave, since it probably is not safe for you to fly like this, which means that you would have to hold on to me the whole time.”

Jon immediately perked up. “Really?”

“Really.”

In a second, they were no longer in the warehouse, and, instead, standing next to Damian’s motorcycle in the alley where they'd left it. Jon wasted no time hopping on after Damian. He wound his arms tightly around Damian’s middle and rested his head between his shoulder blades.

It actually felt kind of nice. Not that Damian would ever admit that.

They had barely been driving for all of five minutes when one of Jon’s hands moved from Damian’s waist to squeeze his inner thigh. The touch nearly caused Damian to crashed into a parked car, not at all expecting Jon to try to do anything like that. He just barely managed to swerve out of the way in time.

Damian pulled over in the closest alley and parked, whipping around to glare at Jon as soon as he did. “What the hell was that?”

“What do you mean?” Jon still had one hand on Damian’s waist and the other resting on his thigh.

“You can’t do that while I’m driving.” Damian hissed.

“So you’re saying I can do it when you’re not driving?”

Damian’s heart nearly stopped. He knew, logically, that this was just a side effect of the toxin. Still, that didn’t change the fact that Jonathan Kent was touching him and flirting with him and staring at him with those huge, violet eyes and-

Okay, Damian needed to get a hold of himself. They weren’t far from the Cave, they just needed to get there and everything would be fine.

“No, you can’t.” Damian’s words came out harsher than he intended. “Keep your hands above my belt.”

Jon pouted, and Damian almost felt a little bad- almost. After all, he didn’t want to risk them crashing again and he certainly didn’t want Jon doing anything he’d regret later on.

Ultimately, Jon did listen. He kept his arms around Damian’s waist for the rest of the ride, never venturing any lower.

As they neared the Cave, Damian called into its comms system. Luckily, Tim was the only one there tonight, having been benched for the week due to his horribly weak immune system. Damian really did not want his entire family seeing Jon acting like this towards him.

Tim answered on the second ring. “‘Yello.”

“I’m heading back early, Superboy got hit with one of Poison Ivy’s toxins. Do we have any antidotes left over from last time?”

There was a shuffling sound, presumably Tim checking on the antidotes. “I mean, we do, but I’m going to need to know which toxin he got hit with to know which antidote to use. What’re his symptoms?”

Damian groaned internally. He knew that, of course. Poison Ivy was constantly experimenting with new versions of her pheromone toxins, some being stronger or weaker than others. This, fortunately, seemed to be one of the weaker ones since Jon hadn’t immediately tried to jump him and was still capable of some self-control. Nevertheless, describing what Jon had been doing sounded absolutely mortifying.

“Can’t you just take a blood sample when we get there?”

“All out of kryptonite needles, sorry. B and I were planning on making some more tomorrow.”

Just his luck.

“Fine.” Damian sighed, feeling Jon nuzzle his head between his shoulder blades. “He’s emotional, overly affectionate, and very… forward.”

Tim had the audacity to laugh. “‘Forward’? Huh?”

“Just get the antidote ready.” Damian snapped. “ETA ten minutes.”

With a click he hung up the call, still hearing Tim laughing in the background as he did. He was never going to live this down.

…

Ten minutes later, Damian found himself dragging a very floaty Jon through the Bat Cave by his cape and into the med bay. Tim was already there, sitting next to one of the cots with a tray of bright green needles and plastic vials necessary for a blood draw.

“You had kryptonite needles this whole time!”

Tim, the traitor, laughed. “Yeah, duh, I do actually need a blood sample to give him the right antidote. It was just fun to mess with you.”

Damian glared at him. “You are the bane of my existence, Drake.”

“Right back at ‘ya, baby bat.” Tim smiled easily, as if this was just a game. “Mind coming down here, Jon?”

“Huh?” Jon snapped his attention towards Tim.

“Stop floating and sit down on the cot, Kent.”

Jon stared at him dreamily. “I’d do anything you wanted me to, Dami.”

“Anything, huh?” Tim snickered, receiving a kick to the shin from Damian in response.

Jon, meanwhile, had done as he was told as soon as Damian let go of his cape and was now sitting on the cot. Next to him, Tim pushed up the sleeve of Jon’s suit and tied a tourniquet above his elbow. Damian knew that he normally would’ve disinfected the site as well, but there was really no point in doing so with Jon since he couldn’t get infections.

“Alright.” Tim picked up one of the kryptonite needles. “Just a quick pinch.”

It was at that point that Jon finally seemed to notice the kryptonite that was about to puncture his skin. He scrambled backwards, nearly falling off the cot in the process. Damian grabbed him by the front of his suit and hauled him back up just in time.

“Relax, Kent, it’s just for a blood draw.”

“No, no, no.” Jon latched on to Damian’s wrist. “Please, Dami.”

Now, in the past, Damian would’ve been quick to call Jon a crybaby and be done with his antics. Lately, however, Damian had found himself becoming oddly endeared to Jon’s sensitivity. Which is why, currently, he hesitated as to what to do.

On one hand, he could tell Jon to sit still and let Tim give him the shot and he was sure Jon would listen. On the other hand, the idea of using the influence he clearly had over Jon at the moment to force him to do something that frightened him was nauseating.

Still, Damian knew that the blood draw was necessary. He also knew that Jon’s emotions were currently heightened due to the toxin. If he were in his right mind, he would push past the anxiety associated with kryptonite in order to do the blood draw. Jon would want to be given the antidote, he wouldn’t want to be stuck like this for days until it wore off on its own.

“Jon.” Damian attempted to soften his voice. “We need to do the blood draw. There is not enough kryptonite in those needles to hurt you, just enough to pierce your skin.”

“Damian.” Jon practically whimpered, his eyes welling up with tears.

Damian placed both of his hands on Jon’s face, cupping his cheeks. Jon kept hold of his wrist with his free hand. “Just focus on me, it’ll be over in a moment.”

Tim took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to place the needle. Jon gasped as he did, tears running down his cheeks now. He gripped Damian’s wrist so tightly that it hurt.

Damian couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when Jon was staring at him with glassy violet eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Shhh, it’s alright.” Damian swiped a few tears away with his thumb.

“All done.” Tim announced as he took the needle out of Jon’s arm and capped the vial of blood. “I’m going to analyze this and then I’ll be back with the antidote.”

Damian nodded his acknowledgment. Jon had calmed down considerably once the kryptonite was away from him. He was no longer crying, in fact, he was smiling. Damian had let go of him, but Jon still had a loose hand wrapped around Damian’s wrist.

Damian was about to attempt to be nice and ask how Jon was feeling, when he was suddenly lifted off his feet. In a blur of motion, Damian found himself sitting on a nearby countertop with Jon standing between his legs.

“I’ll take this to mean that you are no longer upset?”

Jon tilted his head, messy curls falling in his eyes when he did. “How could I ever be upset around you?”

Damian couldn’t help scoffing at that. Jon was upset around Damian a decent amount of the time. Granted, it was usually because Damian had done something reckless on a mission… and Jon was typically more worried about him than upset… but, whatever, his point remained true.

Jon leaned his chin against Damian’s chest, looking up at him. Sitting like this, Damian was a bit taller than Jon. Their height difference wasn’t quite so pronounced anymore, not like it used to be when they were younger, but it was definitely still there. It was weird to be the one looking down for a change.

“Hi, Dami.”

“Kent.” Damian responded curtly.

“Do you know how much I like looking at you?” Jon asked, running up and down Damian’s sides. “‘Cause I really like looking at you.”

Damian swallowed thickly rather than responding. He was currently finding it very difficult to think of one. Actually, he was finding it difficult to think of anything other than the way Jon was touching him and the erratic rhythm of his own heart.

Luckily, he was saved from having to answer by Tim entering the med bay with a tablet and an antidote vial in-hand. He immediately covered his eyes with his free hand when he saw the position Jon and Damian were in, muttering something about having to wash his eyes out with bleach.

“Stop being so dramatic, Drake, we weren’t doing anything.” Damian hoped Tim didn’t notice the blush on his face as he pushed Jon to the side and jumped off the counter.

Damian took the antidote from Tim and deposited it in Jon’s hands, instructing him to drink it. There was no need for any more kryptonite needles, thankfully.

“How long until it takes effect?” Damian asked, pointedly ignoring the sound of Jon coughing behind him after drinking the antidote.

“I’m not sure, maybe a couple hours? Maybe less?” Tim responded.

“You’re very helpful.” Damian deadpanned.

“Well, it’s true.” Tim pushed his hair out of his face. “I know how long it would take for the antidote to work on a human, not a half-Kryptonian. Really, the toxin shouldn’t have even had an effect on him in the first place. The fact that it did means that it was a strong dose, I gave him a double dose of the antidote to combat it, but we’re probably just going to have to wait and see.”

“Great.” Damian sighed. “Just wonderful. Did you find out anything useful?”

“Actually, there was something interesting about this specific strain of the toxin that I wanted to show you.”

Tim unlocked the tablet and began typing on it. He turned the screen to face Damian, but, unfortunately, strong arms turned him around and wrapped around him before he could.

“Jon.” Damian hissed.

“Why did you leave?” Jon buried his face in Damian’s shoulder.

“I did not leave, I was standing five feet away from you.”

Damian tried to break Jon’s hold, but he couldn’t. Jon’s arms were wrapped tightly around Damian’s, pinning them to his sides. Damian’s explanation seemingly did nothing to appease him.

“You should just stay with me.” Damian could hear the pout in Jon’s voice.

“I am with you.” Damian reminded him, not that it seemed to help.

“Is he going to let go of you or am I going to have to get the hose?” Tim said, making fake retching sounds.

“You are so immature, Drake.” Damian spit back. “As if you and the clone don’t-”

Damian suddenly cut himself off with a yell as Jon’s hands moved down to his ass and squeezed. Damian would’ve started shouting at him, if someone didn’t beat him to the punch.

“What the hell are you doing!”

Bruce’s voice boomed across the Cave, loud enough to wake the dead. Jon startled at the sounded of it. Damian nearly did too, which was problematic. No one was ever able to sneak up on him.

“You are so screwed.” Tim muttered unhelpfully under his breath.

Damian scowled at him before finally getting an arm free and pushing at Jon’s chest. Shockingly, Jon actually did step away from him. Apparently, even in a drug-addled haze, he still had some self-preservation skills.

“Someone start talking. Now.”

Damian turned to face Bruce. He was standing at the entrance of the med bay, arms crossed over his chest, looking extremely unamused. He had taken off the cowl, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating.

Damian opened his mouth to explain, and hopefully smooth things over. Unfortunately, Jon beat him to it.

“Dami’s just so pretty!” Jon reached out and pinched Damian’s cheeks (the ones on his face this time, thankfully) with both his hands. “I can’t help myself.”

A vein popped out on Bruce’s forehead. “Well, you have three seconds to figure it out and get your hands off of my son before I-”

“Father, enough!” Damian cut him off. “He got hit by one of Poison Ivy’s toxins during patrol. Drake already gave him the antidote.”

That appeared to calm Bruce slightly, although he was still glaring at Jon. “And he’s not in kryptonite restraints at the moment because…”

“Because he doesn’t need them.” Damian argued, suddenly feeling very defensive.

Jon just giggled, grabbing Damian by the jaw to force him to look at him. “You’re my kryptonite, baby.”

Damian arched an eyebrow. “I don’t know how much I appreciate being likened to something that causes you pain.”

“You can cause me all the pain you want.” Jon’s eyes darkened and Damian was a bit ashamed by the heat he felt in his gut at the sight of it.

“That’s it, I’m getting the restraints.”

“Wait.” Damian told Bruce, before addressing Jon. “Go wait in the Cave for a moment, Kent.”

“But-”

“I will be there soon.” Damian promised.

Really, it didn’t make much of a difference if Jon was in the room or not. He could be in Australia and would still be able to hear their conversation. However, Damian wasn’t thrilled at the aspect of speaking about Jon like this right in front of him.

Jon sighed, but dropped the hand that was on Damian’s jaw and floated away as he had been told to do. Once he was out of the room, Damian faced Bruce again.

“No one is restraining him.” Damian insisted. “If you are uncomfortable seeing this, then that is fine, I will just take him up to my room.”

Bruce suddenly got very red in the face. “You’re not taking him to your room!”

Damian felt his face become a bit red too, realizing how it sounded. “Not like that. I wouldn’t do that while he’s like this.”

“Well it doesn’t seem like he has the same inhibitions.” Bruce pointed out.

“Father, relax, we are both adults. Besides, he’s harmless.”

“He is not.”

“Drake?” Damian called out, hoping his brother would be on his side. Tim was nothing if not an agent of chaos and he had already helped Damian quite a bit tonight.

Tim, who had been quietly watching the interaction with amusement clear on his face, responded at the use of his name. “Oh, no, no, no. I am not getting involved in this. Although, I will say, I would rather not have to sit here watching him trying to grope Damian for however long until the antidote kicks in.”

Bruce put his hands on his hips. “Well, I would rather just put him in a pair of kryptonite handcuffs and isolate him.”

“Once again, no one is using kryptonite on him!” Damian reminded them, more forceful this time. “Just let me take him upstairs, it will be fine.”

Bruce moved one hand away from his hip to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know that, Damian. What if he hurts you?”

“He wouldn’t.”

Damian said it with a conviction he was unaware he possessed. It was true, obviously, he trusted Jon with his life. However, trusting Jon in his normal state and trusting him as he was now were two very different things.

If Jon wanted to, he could quite literally rip Damian limb from limb in a second flat. Typically, Damian wouldn’t even think about Jon trying to hurt him, but nothing about Jon was typical right now. Every ounce of Damian’s assassin training screamed at him not to trust Jon because of this, yet he did. He wholeheartedly trusted Jon not to ever hurt him, even when under the effects of a mind-altering toxin.

Bruce remained predictably stubborn. “He’s not in his right mind, you don’t know how he’ll behave.”

“I know that he has not tried to hurt me since getting hit with that toxin and I also know that he has been capable of stopping himself whenever I tell him to.” Damian retorted.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Bruce said, but he had that drawn look on his face that meant he would give in with a bit more wheedling.

“It will be fine, father. I will keep my emergency button handy and contact you if anything occurs.”

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, contemplating. “I’m going to call to check on you every half hour. If you don’t answer, I’ll come upstairs and check in-person. Understood?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Bruce looked like he wanted to say something else, but, before he could, Jon rushed back into the room. He’d obviously been listening in on the conversation. Damian had had a feeling he might.

Damian knew what was going to happen next. He didn’t even have time to protest. One moment, he was in the Bat Cave, and then, in an instant, he was lying on his own bed with Jon above him.

“You were right, this is so much better!”

Jon stopped holding himself up, dropping himself to lay directly on top of Damian. The action knocked the wind clear out of Damian’s lungs.

“Kent.” Damian wheezed out once he was able to breathe again. “You are heavy.”

“Please, I’ve laid on top of you before.” Jon argued, pushing himself closer.

It was true, Damian had allowed him to do so on the occasional night that Jon had needed comfort. All of those times, however, Jon had always held himself up a little bit so that he didn’t completely crush Damian. He never put his entire body weight on him and he certainly didn’t push himself closer as though he could merge their bodies together by doing so.

Despite this, Damian actually did find himself enjoying Jon’s weight on him once he adjusted to it. The sensation was a bit nice, calming. It was almost like using a weighted blanket.

Damian let his hand travel to Jon’s hair. He combed through the strands with his fingers, gently pulling apart any knots. Jon hummed in contentment, his own hands rubbing small circles into the strip of skin where the top part of Damian’s uniform had ridden up.

Jon shifted then and began pressing open-mouthed kisses to Damian’s jaw. Damian stilled completely, his brain momentarily malfunctioning due to the sensation.

“Jon.” Damian said in warning, once he finally figured out how to speak again.

Jon kept going, his kisses traveling to Damian’s neck now. He was biting, hard too, and would definitely be leaving a bruise there.

“Jon, stop.”

“Dami.” Jon whined in return.

He rolled his hips against Damian’s and Damian couldn’t help but gasp at the movement. He immediately mentally chastised himself for it. He wasn’t doing this with Jon. Not with him in such an altered state.

“Jon!” Damian shoved the other boy with all his strength, not that it moved him even an inch. “I told you to stop, get off of me!”

Jon lifted his head up slightly to look at Damian. Clearly, he saw the seriousness on Damian’s face because his own eyes grew wide and he quickly scrambled off of Damian.

“I- I’m sorry.” Tears welled up in Jon’s eyes yet again. “Did I hurt you?”

Damian sighed, sitting up as well. He supposed it was sweet that Jon still cared about causing him harm, even when under the effects of a toxin.

“No, you didn’t, but you can’t just-”

Damian was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk. Likely Bruce or Tim wanting to check up on him, he’d have to wait to finish chastising Jon.

“Hold on.” Damian stood up to get his phone, only for Jon to grab his wrist.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Kent, I just have to get that.”

“No, you don’t.” Jon argued. He pulled on Damian’s wrist slightly, making him lurch back towards the bed.

“If that is my father and I don’t answer, he is going to come in here. Is that what you want?”

“I guess not.” Jon huffed, letting go of Damian.

Damian made his way over to the desk and picked up the phone. He’d missed the call, thanks to Jon. He checked the notification anyway. Except, it hadn’t been his family calling as he suspected, it had been Nika.

It wasn’t that unusual for her to call or text him. They were friends, and spoke occasionally. Sometimes, she called just to catch up. Damian assumed that was what her reason had been this time as well. If it was anything important, she would’ve tried to call again. He could call her back, just to check, sure, but he doubted Jon would like that.

There was a sudden rush of air and Damian could feel Jon behind him. He was leaning over Damian’s shoulder, clearly looking at the notification.

“Nika? Why’s she calling you?”

Case and point.

Damian turned around to face Jon. “I’m not sure, someone made me miss her call.”

“Good.”

“Excuse me?”

Jon stepped forward, backing Damian into the desk. “She’s your ex, there’s no reason for you to be talking to her. I don’t like it.”

Damian scoffed. “It’s not like I’m sleeping with her.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say because Jon’s eyes began to glow red. He leaned forward even more and put his hands on the desk, effectively boxing Damian in.

“You’re mine, Dami.” He whispered. “Why can’t you just be all mine?”

Jon’s gaze flicked down towards Damian’s lips. His words and the way he was staring made Damian feel hot all over. He wanted it so badly, just not like this.

Which is why, when Jon moved in, Damian quickly reached up and covered Jon’s mouth with his hands. Jon made a muffled sound of confusion behind them.

“This isn’t what you want, Jon.” Damian said, hating how fragile he sounded.

Jon pulled Damian’s hands down, holding them tightly. “Yes, it is. Damian, you have no idea how-”

Jon cut himself off and stumbled backwards. “Damian? What did- why was I just-“

The antidote. Finally. Damian should’ve been relieved, and part of him was, but another part was oddly preoccupied with how cold his hands felt without Jon holding them.

“Poison Ivy used one of her toxins on you.” Damian explained. “However, it seems that the antidote has worked. You should be fine to leave.”

“Leave? Wait a second, we were just-”

“I would like you to leave, Kent.” Damian insisted, voice clipped.

Jon opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if unsure of what to say. Damian could clearly see the confusion in his gaze and, underneath it, the hurt. Damian stared at the floor, unable to meet it.

“You don’t want me here?”

Yes you do! A voice in the back of Damian’s head screamed. Tell him to stay!

Damian forcibly ignored it. If Jon stayed, they would have to talk about this. He would have to listen to Jon explain that it was all the toxin and how he would never see Damian like that. Damian was sure he’d be nice about it- because of course he would, he’s Jon- but that didn’t make the thought sting any less.

“Not particularly, no.”

“Oh. Okay, I’ll, um, I’ll go.” Jon’s voice wavered as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Damian.”

Damian didn’t respond, he stubbornly kept his eyes glued on the floor as he heard the tell-tale whooshing sound of Jon leaving.

This was for the best.

…

Damian should’ve known better than to accept a ride from Tim.

He was promised a trip to the zoo. Supposedly, Tim had taken pity on him and wanted to make him feel better after everything that had happened with Jon.

Normally, Damian would’ve scoffed at that and refused. However, even he could admit that he’d been a bit off lately. He didn’t enjoy not speaking to Jon, even if he knew that it was entirely his own doing.

Not that Jon had tried to reach out to him either…

Whatever, this was besides the point and exactly the reason why Damian had been willing to take any distraction he could get, even if it meant sitting in a car with Tim for an hour to get to the largest zoo in the area.

They were about thirty minutes into the trip when Damian realized that they were not, in fact, driving in the direction of the zoo. They were going to Smallville.

Damian was going to behead someone. Preferably Tim.

“Timothy, turn the car around.”

Tim, apparently already aware of Damian’s realization, just shook his head. “Nope, you’re going to talk to him.”

“No, I’m not.” Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “Now turn this car around or I swear I will throw myself out of it.”

“That’s a bit dramatic.” Tim said. “Besides, I had a feeling you’d try something like that, so I enabled the child lock on your side. No getting out until the car stops and someone opens it from the outside.”

Damian tried the door anyway. Sure enough, he couldn’t open it. “I am going to kill you and it is going to be painful.”

“Alright, but you’re going to talk to Jon first.”

Damian slumped down further in his seat. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I haven’t been able to hang out with Kon for the past two weeks!” Tim whined. Of course this was what he was concerned about. “Every time I try, Jon interrupts with his moping, asking me how to get you to stop being mad at him.”

“You don’t have to go to the Kent’s to see the clone, you have an apartment.”

“Damian, stop, you and Jon need to figure this out.” Tim said, all humor suddenly gone from his voice. “Besides, he’s your best friend. Don’t you miss him?”

What a stupid question, of course Damian missed him, but that didn’t mean that he could talk to him. That would just give Jon the opportunity to explain that he hadn’t meant anything he’d done or said. That he was sorry, but he didn’t like Damian that way. Of course he didn’t, Damian already knew that, he didn’t need to hear it.

He wasn’t sure he could handle the heartbreak it was sure to cause if he did.

“There’s no point, I already know what he’s going to say.”

“You’re a mind reader now?” Tim scoffed. “Come on, Dames, what’s the real problem? All of us have been hit with weird toxins before, it’s kind of hypocritical for you to be holding this against him.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what is it?” Tim paused for a moment, taking his eyes off the road for a concerning anmount of time to level Damian with a look of suspicion. “Are you… are you upset that he has feelings for you?”

Damian ducked his chin in the hopes that it would prevent Tim from noticing just how red his face was. “Please, he doesn’t have feelings for me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Drake?”

Tim gave him a knowing smile. “That toxin that Jon was hit with, it doesn’t create feelings out of nowhere like Ivy’s other toxins. It just heightens romantic or sexual feelings that the person already has. It’s actually really interesting how it works, the internal structure allows it to attach itself to the…”

Tim continued blathering on, but Damian couldn’t hear him. Everything around him had suddenly faded away. There were no other cars or annoying older brothers. The only things that existed at this moment were Damian’s racing heart and the undeniable proof he now had that Jonathan Kent was attracted to him in some regard.

Damian should’ve been thrilled, despite the nagging feeling of uncertainty in his gut. After all, how many times had he let himself hope for this very thing?

Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop thinking about Tim’s wording. ‘Romantic or sexual desires’. Hope was not always realistic, and Damian was nothing if not a realist.

Damian wanted to inquire more about the specifics of the toxin. However, the only words he could seem to get out were- “And you’re just telling me this now?”

Tim shrugged. “Well, I did try to tell you that night, but Jon was kind of all over you.”

“You could’ve told me after.”

“I was hoping you’d get your head out of your ass on your own, but apparently not.”

Damian groaned as he let his head fall against the window. Tim was acting as though this information could magically fix everything, when it, in fact, could not. How could someone as smart as he was not see that?

“Whatever, it still does not make a difference.”

“What do you mean?” Tim asked. “Of course it makes a difference, you know he likes you now.”

“No, I don’t.” Damian responded.

Tim leaned his head forward and knocked it against the steering wheel. “Stop being so goddamn stubborn, Damian. You just heard me say that the toxin was designed to make people act on their romantic desires.”

“Or their sexual ones.” Damian pointed out. Surely now Tim would see the flaw in his logic.

Tim stared at Damian for another long moment. So long that Damian nearly yelled at him to stop taking his eyes off the road.

“Dames, what’re you saying?” Tim finally said once the question on his face morphed into realization. “Because it sounds like you’re saying that Jon just wants a physical relationship with you.”

Damian shrugged, it wasn’t so far-fetched. He knew other people considered him to be physically attractive. His personality, on the other hand, left much to be desired. Jon knew him inside and out, down to his literal heartbeat. How could he want anything other than a purely sexual relationship after witnessing such ugliness?

“He’s not going to reject you.” Tim reassured him, his voice was softer now.

“You don’t know that.” Damian insisted, because it was true. Tim could make fun of Damian all he wanted, but he wasn’t a mind reader either, and when it came to Jon, Damian knew best.

“Please, I’ve seen how he looks at you, it’s honestly disgusting.”

“You don’t have much room to talk.”

“Just speak to him, Damian.”

Ugh, this again. As much as Damian was dreading it, he knew he it was unavoidable. They were too close to the Kent’s to turn around now.

Besides, a life where he never spoke to Jon again sounded awful. It sounded lonely in a way that burrowed into his bones and left him with an ever-present ache.

Still, Damian couldn’t help but ask for one final reassurance from his brother. “What if he does? Reject me, that is.”

Tim fixed him with his most wicked smile. “Then we’ll break out the kryptonite.”

…

No one was home except Jon and Conner when Tim and Damian arrived. According to Tim, Clark and Lois both had important deadlines to meet and Ma and Pa had gone into town for some shopping. Damian was sure that Tim had chosen to bring him here today for this exact reason- and for other reasons that involved him immediately dragging Conner off to the barn that Damian would rather not think about.

Regardless, it meant that Damian was able to enter the house and make his way up to Jon’s room with issue, which he was very appreciative of. He wasn’t sure how much Jon had told his parents about what had happened, but he was sure they’d noticed Damian’s absence and Jon’s, supposedly, sour mood over the past few weeks. Damian did not want to be bombarded with questions regarding this whole situation.

As he made his way up the stairs, Damian half-expected Jon to come barreling down them and into him like he usually did. He didn’t, though. Why would he? They hadn’t spoken in weeks, Damian wouldn’t blame Jon if he told him to leave as soon as he saw him.

Damian swung Jon’s door open- he didn’t bother to knock since it wasn’t even closed all the way. Besides, when had Damian ever knocked? Inside the room, he was met with the sight of Jon lounging on his bed, a comic in hand.

Jon shot up into a seated position as soon as the door opened, his mouth dropping open. “Damian, you’re- you’re here?”

Damian took in Jon’s state. He looked almost as bad as Damian felt. His hair was messier than usual, he was pale, and he had bags under his eyes. Had he not been sleeping?

Damian’s stomach churned with guilt. He had figured Jon would be upset, he always was when they fought. This, however, was much worse than Damian had imagined.

“Didn’t you hear us pull up?” Damian asked dumbly. Of course he had, he had super-hearing.

“I thought it was just wishful thinking.” Jon muttered mostly to himself, though Damian still caught it. “Anyway, what’re you, um, doing here?”

What was he doing here? He was here to talk, obviously. He was here to apologize. He was here to hopefully mend their friendship.

Each of those would’ve been a fine answer, however, Damian did not say any of that. Instead, his traitorous, defensive brain got to his mouth first.

“I was promised a trip to the zoo. Drake is a liar.”

Jon’s face immediately fell. “So you didn’t want to see me?”

“No.”

Jon turned away. “Dames, if you’re going to be a jerk about this, then just-”

Damian could’ve slapped himself. He was usually so well-spoken. Why was he seemingly unable to make his brain and mouth cooperate right now?

“No!” Damian corrected. “I meant… I meant ‘no’ as in I did want to see you, even though my being here was not entirely my own idea.”

Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay?”

Here goes nothing.

“I think we need to talk.”

Damian let out a small sigh of relief, at least the words had come out correctly this time. Not that it gave him much hope for the rest of the conversation, since this was undoubtedly the easiest part of-

“Do we have to?”

-it.

It was Damian’s turn to look disappointed now. Even though he wasn’t exactly surprised by Jon’s reaction, he hadn’t expected him to be so blunt about it.

“You don’t want to speak to me?”

“What?” Jon shook his head wildly and threw his hands up in a placating gesture. “No, of course I do, it’s just...”

Jon took a deep breath, pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve been a wreck these past couple weeks. I can’t handle dragging this out any more with some long conversation. If you… if you hate me, just say it. I can take it.”

What the hell was he talking about? Damian couldn’t think of a single scenario that would cause him to hate Jonathan Kent. He could burn the world down and Damian would still be by his side.

“I don’t hate you.”

Jon blinked at him. “You- you don’t?”

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

Jon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I came on pretty strong when everything… happened. Plus, you kicked me out and haven’t spoken to me since.”

Guilt pooled in Damian’s stomach once more. Obviously he knew that Jon had thought Damian was upset with him, that was a logical conclusion based on Damian’s actions. Thinking that Damian would hate him for something he had no control over, on the other hand, was not.

Damian cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I am sorry for doing that. I did not mean to make you think…”

“It’s alright.” Jon gave him a small smile. “I’m sorry too.”

“What for?”

Jon blushed deeply. “For, you know, all the touching and flirting. I didn’t exactly ask if it was okay.”

Damian began blushing as well as he thought about the things Jon had said to him, the way his hands had felt on his skin. He hoped that his darker complexion hid it.

“You were under the effects of the toxin.”

“Yeah, but, still, you seemed uncomfortable. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you, if I did-”

God, what a ridiculous thing to worry about. As if Jon could ever intentionally hurt him.

“You didn’t.” Damian promised. “You always managed to stop when I told you to.”

Jon sighed, tension visibly leaking out of his posture. “That’s a relief. All I really remember from that night was a lot of groping and crying.”

“That is fairly accurate.”

“Great, how embarrassing.” Jon groaned.

“No, what was embarrassing was you grabbing my ass in front of my father.”

“Oh Rao.” Jon flopped backwards on his bed. “I’m never going to Gotham again.”

“Probably a wise choice.”

They fell into silence, although not an uncomfortable one. It felt like every other time that they’d sat quietly together, just being together was more enjoyable than anything else.

Damian took a step forward, about to sit on the bed next to Jon as he usually did. However, before he could make it very far, Jon sat up and cleared his throat.

“Hey Damian, can I ask you something.” Jon asked, waiting for Damian’s nod of confirmation before continuing. “What if… what if it wasn’t the toxin making me act that way?”

Damian’s breath caught in his throat. Sure, he knew that Jon’s actions had partly been influenced by his own desires, but Jon wasn’t supposed to know that.

Realistically, he had two options here. Either he could argue with Jon and try to convince him that he was wrong about his own feelings, or he could tell him the truth.

Damian wasn’t sure where either of those options left him. He wanted Jon to have feelings for him, but he wasn’t sure if they aligned with his own. Both options seemed rather unappealing, however, telling him the truth was the right thing to do.

“Well, it wasn’t, not entirely.”

Jon tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

“Drake had to analyze the toxin to give you correct antidote.” Damian explained. “It is not the type that creates feelings out of nowhere, rather, it amplifies the ones you already have and takes away your ability to control yourself.”

Jon was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded… odd. “So, you knew how I really felt about you this entire time?”

“Yes.”

Jon pressed his lips into a thin line. “And you still kicked me out and refused to speak to me?”

Damian saw where this was going. His stomach dropped at the prospect of fighting with Jon again. He could apologize more, try to explain his rationale, but he found his defenses going up instead.

“I already apologized for that.”

“Why- why wouldn’t you just tell me that you didn’t feel the same way?” Jon’s voice wavered when he spoke.

Damian wanted to hit something. How was this going so wrong? He’d told Jon the truth in an effort to fix things, not make them worse.

“Are you… upset with me?”

“Yeah, kind of!” Jon admitted, voice steadily rising to shout. “We’ve been friends for years and you didn’t have the decency to call me or even send a text? Were you just never going to speak to me again if Tim didn’t drag you here?”

Jon’s cheeks were red and his eyes gleamed with barely-concealed anger. Damian should’ve tried to calm him down, but how could he without explaining everything? Without letting Jon see every horrible, wanting part of him?

“It was not that simple.” Damian huffed, purposely vague.

Jon scoffed. “Oh please.”

“It wasn’t!”

“Why?” Jon asked. “Why wasn’t it simple?”

“Things were just… complicated.”

Jon shook his head. “That’s not a reason.”

“Jon.”

“Tell me the reason, and I’ll leave it alone.”

“I already have!” Damian shouted.

“No, you haven’t! Now tell me!”

“Stop pestering me!”

“Not until you tell me!”

“Kent-” Damian started, but Jon quickly cut him off.

“Why wasn’t it simple? Just tell me! Why wasn’t it-”

“Because I could not handle your rejection! Alright!”

Everything suddenly stopped, including Damian’s heart. He had not meant to say that. Except that he had said it, and it was not as though he could pretend he hadn’t.

“What?” Jon sounded close to hysterics. “What are you even saying? You knew how I felt, you said it yourself!”

That was the problem! What wasn’t Jon understanding here?

“Exactly!” Damian tried to his best to keep his voice steady. “I knew how you felt and I knew that I wanted more than that!”

“Huh?”

Damian took a deep breath before confessing. He refused to allowed the pressure building behind his eyes to betray him.

“Jon, I- I couldn’t stand the thought of only being with you physically. Of being so close to getting what I wanted, but never truly being able to have it.”

Damian stared at Jon, waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to confirm what he had known to be true all along. Jon, however, just opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he spoke. “Wait, Damian, did you think that I just wanted to fuck you?”

Obviously. Did Jon think he was a fool?

“The toxin heightens both romantic and sexual urges.” Damian told him. “Most of your actions that night were of a sexual nature.”

“Yeah, because you’re, like, ridiculously hot.” Jon said. “That doesn’t mean that that’s the only way I want you.”

Damian’s heart raced at Jon’s words, he could feel his face flush. Was it possible? Could Jon actually-

No. Damian forced away those idiotic thoughts. He was not doing this. He was not about to let himself get his hopes up just to be let down again.

“Do not patronize me. It does not make sense for to you want anything else.”

Jon raised his eyebrows. “You’ve decided that for me?”

“I am just speaking logically.” Damian defended himself.

“Well, your logic’s wrong.” Jon argued, leaning forward and staring directly at Damian. “You’re amazing, Dami. You’re kind and strong and you care so much, even if you’d rather die than admit it. You always go out of your way to help those who need it, no matter what. How could my feelings for you ever be purely sexual? You’re so much more than that.”

By the time Jon was done, Damian’s heart was racing so fast that he thought he might pass out. This wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t. Jon couldn’t actually feel this way about him.

Damian shifted back and forth on his feet. “I have a far greater amount of faults, you should spend your time focusing on those.”

Jon just shrugged. “Why? Everyone has faults, you never hold mine against me.”

“Yes, well mine are much worse than yours.” Damian said, then, quieter. “They are worse than most people’s.”

“No they’re not.” Jon spoke firmly. “You’re not running around planting bombs all over a city or conducting human experiments or taking part in trafficking rings.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s a very low bar.”

“You know what I mean. You’re a hero, Dami, you fight the people who do those things. Even when you’re not being a hero, you still always try to help people, in any way you can.” Jon said, sounding a bit out of breath. “You’re so amazing. I want you in any way you’ll let me have you.”

Damian knew he still shouldn’t believe it, that he should keep his guards up, but Jon’s words had done something to him. They had made him feel like maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so horrible for Jon to be with him after all. They made him hope.

Damian’s brain had, decidedly, turned to mush. Which was why he couldn’t stop the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Jon… would it- would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Jon’s eyes lit up, he nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

Damian took a tentative step forward, and then another one, until he was standing between Jon’s legs. He knew, logically, that the next step was to lean down and press his lips into Jon’s. However, he seemed unable to get his body and mind to comply with one another.

Damian didn’t get scared easily, but this terrified him. Taking this step meant that there would be no return. If he messed this up- whether it was in this moment or in six months or in six years- his and Jon’s friendship would never be able to go back to what it used to be. Damian would lose him forever.

Damian looked down at Jon, he was smiling at him easily, still waiting for Damian to do something. Damian realized then that he’d already passed the point of no return when he’d asked to kiss Jon. Not doing so, after avoiding him for weeks, would cause irreparable damage.

Damian couldn’t chance it, he couldn’t imagine a world where he and Jon didn’t speak to each other. So, he swallowed down his worry and cupped Jon’s face in his hands. He leaned down until his mouth met Jon’s. It was a bit clumsy and chaste, at first, but Damian didn’t mind in the slightest.

As they continued to kiss, Damian’s worries steadily melted away. This was Jon. So kind, and brave, and familiar. Damian knew him as well as he knew himself. Kissing him was pure comfort, pure safety. Nothing would happen to him while he was with Jon.

Damian was very glad that he had not allowed his first kiss with Jon to be under the pretenses of a drug addled haze. This was much better. This was real. Damian knew it from the way Jon sighed against his mouth and how his heart raced when Damian moved his fingers over the pulse point in his neck.

Jon’s hands, which had originally been lightly placed on Damian’s waist, moved to his hips. He pulled Damian down onto his lap. Damian had to grab Jon’s shoulders to keep his balance, breaking the kiss when he did.

Damian huffed out a laugh. “This is a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“I just want you closer.” Jon spoke so honestly, so easily.

Damian kissed him again, deeper this time. He moved his legs so that he was properly straddling Jon. The hands on his hips tightened even more, just a hairsbreadth away from bruising, and pulled him so close that they were chest-to-chest. Damian decided that he liked being pressed up against Jon like this, in a way that allowed him to feel every rise and fall of his chest, every beat of his heart.

After a few more minutes, Jon was the one to finally pull away. “So, we’re good now?”

Once again, that stupid, endearing earnestness pulled at Damian. “Yes, we are good. I hope you don’t think that I make out with people when I am upset with them.”

“Damn.” Jon let his head loll back slightly. “I guess that means we won’t be one of those couples that has sex after they fight.”

Damian knew it was a joke, but the wording stuck in his head. “Is that what we are now? A couple?”

Jon immediately sat up straighter. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to make it seem like- I- I just- I’d be whatever you wanted us to be.”

Damian thought about it. He thought about Jon’s words from earlier, how he’d said he wanted Damian in any way Damian would let him have him. He thought back to the night that had started all of this, to Jon asking why Damian couldn’t just be ‘all his’. He’d still been under the effects of the toxin at the time, sure, but- after today’s events- Damian was sure that he’d meant it.

Damian wanted that too. He might not be perfect, but, as Jon had pointed out before, no one was, and Damian was sick of denying himself things. They both wanted this, why complicate it?

“I’m yours.” Damian confirmed. “In every way.”

Jon’s smile was so brilliant that it was almost inhuman. He looped his arms around Damian’s waist and flipped them so that they were laying on the bed. He peppered kisses on Damian’s cheeks, his neck, his mouth.

Damian pulled back, breathless. He tried to sound annoyed, but he knew his own laughter betrayed him. “I suppose this means that you will be even clingier now.”

“Hey, you’re the one that said you’re mine.” Jon pointed out. “I’m yours too. Body, mind, spirit, all that stuff, and that comes with extra clinginess.”

“Besides.” Jon continued, pointedly ignoring the way Damian had rolled his eyes. “You like it. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Never.” Damian agreed as he kissed Jon yet again.

How could he ever dislike anything about Jonathan Kent?