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1.
Damian did not consider himself one to get frustrated easily. However, Jonathan Kent had had the unique ability to frustrate him like no other since he was ten years old.
Damian had naively thought that would change as they got older and more mature. Unfortunately, twenty-three old Jon was exactly as good at frustrating him as ten year old Jon had been, just in… different ways.
Damian pushed his hands into Jon’s hair, yanking at it roughly. Jon made a noise against Damian’s mouth, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His hands on Damian’s waist pulled Damian more firmly on to his lap.
Damian took one of Jon’s hands and pushed it down towards a less polite area. He felt, more than heard, a sharp inhale from Jon when he did. Jon’s hands tightened on him, almost hard enough to bruise, then he-
Then he was breaking the kiss and moving Damian off of him.
Damian resisted the urge to hit something. This was how it went every time. Whenever they started getting close to doing anything more than making out, Jon stopped it.
Now, if Jon were uncomfortable with going further, Damian wouldn’t push the issue. He hadn’t pushed the issue, actually, because he’d sooner die than force Jon into anything he didn’t want. However, Damian had a suspicion that there was something more going on here.
After all, Jon wasn’t a virgin, not with men or women. He’d told Damian about things he wanted to do with him, and there were times where he looked at Damian like he wanted to eat him alive. Yet, he never followed through. They’d been dating for months now and had done little more than kiss. It was all so confusing and extremely frustrating.
A small, traitorous voice in the back of Damian’s head whispered that maybe there was a reason why Jon wouldn’t go any further with him. That maybe he just didn’t like Damian that much. Maybe he’d only agreed to go out with Damian out of pity.
Maybe he didn’t want Damian’s blood-soaked hands to stain his skin.
“So,” Jon said, interrupting Damian’s self-pitying. “Do you want to order in for dinner and watch a movie or something?”
Damian blinked back the stinging sensation in the back of his eyes. “I believe my father wanted me home for dinner tonight.”
“What?” Jon frowned. “But you just got here.”
Damian didn’t respond. Instead, he opted for getting up off the couch and searching for his overnight bag that Jon had thrown somewhere in his mess of an apartment. Jon stood up as well, and Damian could feel him staring.
Damian finally located his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He made his way towards the door, only to find Jon standing directly in his path. Fucking super-speed.
“Move.”
Jon tilted his head in a way that would’ve been cute if Damian weren’t so annoyed. “I’m confused. Are you mad at me? Did I do something?”
He was confused? Damian wanted to laugh or scream or maybe both. As if Jon hadn’t been confusing Damian for months now.
The deepest, most defensive and insecure parts of Damian screamed at him to get mean. To snap at Jon and push past him and leave him feeling just as hurt as Damian felt. However, there was another voice there too (one that sounded suspiciously like Richard), telling him to just talk to Jon.
Damian wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t completely socially inept. He knew that every relationship came with problems and that those problems needed to be worked out. Not talking about it just built resentment over time.
The idea of speaking about his feelings may have made Damian want to stab something, but he could do it for Jon. As much as being vulnerable scared him, being without Jon scared him much more.
“Is there a reason you are so adverse to touching me?” It came out sharper than Damian had intended, more an accusation than a question.
Jon just blinked at him. “I touch you.”
“You know what I mean, Kent.” Once again, it came out too harsh. Damian had to make an effort to soften his voice. “In an intimate way.”
“Oh, um,” Jon blushed so hard that Damian would’ve thought he was a virgin if he didn’t know better. “You mean, like, sex?”
“Yes, Jonathan, sex.”
“What about it?”
Damian sighed and kept his feet rooted to the floor, no matter how tempting the door looked. “You say you want to have sex with me, but then you never actually do it. If you are not ready, or not comfortable, that is fine. However, I do not appreciate being lied to.”
“I’m not! I’m not lying to you, Dami, I promise, it’s just…”
“Just what?”
Jon’s eyes shifted down the floor for a moment. When he looked back up, they were filled with tears. “I just really don’t want to hurt you.”
Damian would’ve laughed if Jon weren’t so clearly distraught. Never once had Jon hurt him, nor had Damian ever thought he had any intention to. He couldn’t even land a hit on him when they sparred unless Damian let him.
“You’re not going to hurt me.”
“But I almost did!” Jon was full-on crying now, to the point that his voice shook. “That’s why I made us stop just now, because I could feel myself losing control of my strength. If I had held you any tighter, I would’ve left bruises or broken your ribs. I’d never ever forgive myself if I hurt you, Dami.”
Oh, Damian had never considered that. He felt a rush of relief, this he could work with. It wasn’t some moral failing on his part, but a physical one on Jon’s. He dropped his overnight bag back on to the floor, they were going to figure this out here and now.
Damian reached up and wiped the tears from Jon’s face. “You haven’t hurt me. You won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that.” Jon ducked his head slightly, leaning into Damian. “Look at how worked up I got just from kissing you.”
“I could keep some kryptonite next to the bed.” Damian offered, mostly as a joke. However, Jon didn’t look amused.
“You shouldn’t have to do something like that.” Jon visibly winced at the thought. “Sex is supposed to be safe and comfortable. You should be able to let your guard down. Being prepared to stab me with kryptonite in case I lose control of my powers is, like, the exact opposite of that.”
Damian wanted to point out that he’d never let his guard down before and wasn’t about to start now, even in the bedroom, but he had a feeling that that would only upset Jon more. Damian was determined to solve this problem, not bring up another one.
“Alright, well, what have you done to control your powers in the past?”
Jon’s face suddenly became very red. He didn’t answer, just stared down at the floor.
“You’ve had sex before.” Damian continued. “What did you do to stop yourself from losing control then?”
Jon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “This, um, this hasn’t happened with anyone else I’ve been with.”
What?
“I don’t understand.”
“Jeez, Dames, you really have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Jon ran his hands through his hair, making it look even messier. “I like you, I really like you. The things I feel for you, those emotions, they make it very hard to control my powers sometimes.”
“I mean, when we first got together, it took me weeks to figure out how to stop floating every time I thought about you. Hell, just last week, when you sent me those, um, pictures, I lost control of my heat vision looking at them and blasted a hole through my wall.”
Damian felt warm all over, those pictures hadn’t even been that dirty. He almost wanted to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It didn’t seem possible that Jonathan Kent, literal sunshine incarnate, could be this worked up over him.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” Jon’s face was as red as his cape now.
“It’s bad enough losing control just from thinking about you, I don’t want it to happen when we’re actually together. I just… I feel like I’m going to mess this up.”
“You won’t, beloved.” Damian promised, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to Jon’s lips. “Besides, I may have another solution to our problem.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” Damian smiled. “Do you remember those red sun lamps we used to use for sparring? They’re still in the cave. No one uses them much anymore, I’m sure my father wouldn’t notice if we borrowed them.”
Jon’s eyes widened as he realized just what Damian was suggesting. He practically tackled Damian into a hug.
“Do I tell you enough how smart you are? ‘Cause you’re really smart and this is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Damian just shook his head against Jon’s shoulder. “I suppose you could stand to say it more.”
Damian pulled back slightly. As excited as Jon seemed, Damian did want a more concrete assurance that Jon knew what he was agreeing to.
“You’re sure you will be alright if we do this?” Damian asked. “You would be completely powerless in a very vulnerable state. I would understand if you are apprehensive.”
Jon did not always do well when he was without his powers, not since… well, Damian did not want to bring up bad memories now. He did not need to spell it out for Jon to know why he was asking.
“Dames.” Jon’s tone was suddenly serious. He put his hands on Damian’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “I want to fuck you so badly.”
Damian’s face burned. “Tt. Don’t be crass, it was a serious question.”
“And I gave you a serious answer.” Jon insisted. “I want to have sex with you, and I am absolutely willing to give up my powers to do so.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Jon smiled, but it faltered slightly. “It- it won’t be like it was back then. You’ll be with me and I know that you’ll never let anything happen to me.”
Damian pressed another quick kiss to Jon’s lips. “Never, beloved.”
“Now, how long will it take you to disable the cave’s security system?”
2.
Being trained as an assassin from the time he could walk meant that Damian had quite a variety of skills. This included the ability to be able to wake up at the slightest of sounds, even from a heavy sleep.
So, of course, he was awake the second he heard Jon sniffling and felt his weight shift in their bed.
“Jon?” Damian mumbled. He reached his hand out, but was met with empty space.
“I’m fine, go back to sleep.” Jon responded. It might’ve been convincing if his voice wasn’t so audibly choked with tears.
Damian opened his eyes and easily found Jon’s form, even in the darkness. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from Damian. His shoulders were clearly shaking, and his hands gripped the bedsheets tightly.
Damian’s first, most irrational, thoughts immediately went to Jon somehow being injured, but he quickly shook that away for its implausibility. No one could’ve gotten into their apartment with him waking, and he would’ve noticed if Jon had been hurt before they went to bed.
Damian got up and made his way to the edge of the bed as well, sitting next to Jon. As soon as he was close enough, Jon’s head found his shoulder, resting on it heavily. Damian could now see the tears steadily streaming down his face.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Damian asked, rubbing circles into Jon’s back.
“What’s the point?” Jon muttered. “It’s always the same, and talking never makes it go away.”
Damian didn’t respond right away. Technically, Jon was correct. He’d been having this same nightmare about Ultraman for years now, ever since coming home from Earth-3. He didn’t get panic attacks over it anymore, not like he used to, but it was still very upsetting for him.
Over time, he’d told Damian bits and pieces of what the nightmare entailed. Ultraman somehow managing to kidnap Jon again, to keep him in the volcano once more. Him threatening Jon with something that he wouldn’t tell Damian the exact details of, which made Damian think it was either especially horrible or was something that Ultraman had actually done to Jon at one point. Either way, neither option was good.
“I didn’t ask if you thought talking about it would magically fix everything, I asked if you wanted to talk about it.”
Jon shook his head, a small smile appearing on his face despite the tears. “Just… can you just hold me?”
“Of course, beloved.”
Damian laid back down on the bed, and Jon was quick to follow him. He settled himself on Damian’s chest, resting his ear right above Damian’s heart. Damian carded his own hands through Jon’s hair, gently untangling it.
“He used to tell me that I was his.” Jon suddenly whispered, so quiet that Damian almost missed it. “That he owned me.”
Jon didn’t have to specify who ‘he’ was for Damian to know he was talking about Ultraman. Sometimes it was too much for Jon to even say his name, almost like a superstition.
Damian’s hand stilled slightly in Jon’s hair. “Is that what he says to you in the nightmare?”
Jon was silent for a long moment. Damian didn’t try to push. It was rare for Jon to tell him any details of what Ultraman had done to him, but every once in a while he did. Damian had figured out a long time ago that it was best to let Jon go at his own pace with this, otherwise he got overwhelmed and stopped talking completely.
“Other stuff too.” Jon finally said. “That… that he was entitled to me. That he could have me in whatever way he wanted.”
A wave of nausea crashed over Damian at those words. Jon had been eleven when Ultraman had first taken him. Even if he’d been older when he’d started saying those things, it was still sickening.
“He never actually did anything.” Jon was quick to clarify, quieting Damian’s darkest thoughts. “Just made it clear that he could, if he wanted to. It’s not like I would’ve even been able to really fight back, not without my powers.”
“In my nightmares, he beats me, he hurts me.” Jon kept speaking, despite his voice becoming increasingly unsteady with each word. “The whole time, he just keeps saying that he has every right to because he owns me. I’ve spent so many years trying to convince myself that that isn’t true, but I-I’m starting to think it is. I can’t ever get away from him, not even when I sleep.”
Damian’s heart broke into a million pieces for Jon. He was the sweetest, kindest person Damian had ever known and he didn’t deserve any of this. If Damian could kill Ultraman, he would. He would kill him a thousand times over, make him suffer. Batman’s rules be damned.
“Nightmares are common after traumatic events, it is the brain’s way of processing. They do not mean anything.” Damian tried to reassure Jon. “Besides, you know that he is wrong, don’t you? You are not an object, you cannot belong to someone.”
“Except you.” Jon gave Damian a small smile, clearly trying to lighten the mood or possibly change the subject. He was never able to speak about Ultraman for long. “I’m all yours.”
Damian couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at that sentiment. He had called Jon his occasionally, as a term of endearment or in moments of intimacy. Damian never would’ve done so if he’d thought it would upset Jon.
“You don’t have to be.”
“What?” Jon sat straight up, eyes going wide. “Please tell me you’re not trying to break up with me right now. Because that would be, like, the crappiest way to break up with someone ever.”
“No, of course not.” Damian shook his head and sat up as well. “I just meant that I do not have to speak about you possessively if you do not want me to, if it reminds you of him.”
“Actually, I like it when you say I’m yours.” Jon admitted. He took Damian’s hands in his own and played with them absent-mindedly. “It doesn’t feel like ownership, like the way he used to say it. It feels… safe.”
“Safe?”
Jon nodded. “Yeah. I know that when you say it, it means that you care about me. You protect the things you care about.”
Damian frowned at his wording. “You’re not a thing, Jon, you’re a person.”
“Does that mean you won’t protect me?” Jon asked with a teasing smile.
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I will. I’d do anything for you.”
“I know.”
Damian was aware of what Jon was doing, that he was trying to deflect from the concerning things he’d said. Damian didn’t want to upset Jon by continuing to talk about this, but he couldn’t end the conversation here either.
“Jon, look at me.” Damian said, then waited until Jon’s eyes were firmly on him before continuing. “You are your own person, you do not belong to me or Ultraman or anyone else. These nightmares you have about him, they only have as much power as you give them.”
Jon’s face fell. “It’s hard not to give it power when it feels so real.”
“I know, my love, I know.” Damian squeezed Jon’s hands tightly. “Eventually, that feeling will fade. Look at how far you’ve come just in the past few years.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Jon looked down, messy curls falling into his eyes. “Damian, what if Ultraman comes back?”
“He won’t take you again.” Damian immediately said because he wouldn’t. Damian would die before he let that happen.
“You can’t promise me that.”
“Yes, I can.” Damian leaned forward and cupped Jon’s face with his hands. “Jon, believe me when I say that I will never let him harm you. I swear it on everything I hold dear.”
Jon just sighed and shook his head. “Damian, you’re a good fighter, but this is Ultraman we’re talking about. He’s incredibly powerful and has no morals holding him back. You and I both know how difficult it would be to defeat him.”
“All he has are those powers.” Damian argued. “I, on the other hand, have someone to protect. That gives me much more strength than he’ll ever have.”
Jon smiled weakly, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Damian could understand his hesitancy to believe him. After all, Damian wasn’t delusional. He could say whatever he wanted, but, truthfully, he knew it wasn’t that simple.
He hadn’t lied, though. Jon gave him strength. Damian would do anything- anything at all- to protect him.
“Can we talk about this more another time?” Jon asked. “I just want to go to sleep.”
Damian nodded and laid back down, pulling Jon down along with him. Jon wrapped his arms around Damian’s waist and buried his face in the crook of his neck. Damian held him back just as tightly.
He hoped it was enough to stave off any more nightmares. At least for tonight.
3.
Sometimes, Damian thought that Jon was actively trying to reveal his secret identity to the world.
Because bursting through the front door of their apartment, in full Superman entire, in the middle of the day when any of their neighbors could’ve seen him, was sure as hell one way to do it.
However, Damian’s lecture died on his tongue when he saw the state that Jon was in. He was covered in grime, parts of his suit were torn, and his eyes were red-rimmed as though he’d been crying.
Jon threw himself down on the couch beside Damian, his head landing in Damian’s lap. Damian put down the textbook he’d been studying from and adjusted himself slightly so that Jon could lay on him more comfortably. Jon didn’t move, or seem to notice that Damian had, he just stared at the opposite wall with an empty gaze.
“Jon, are you alright?”
Jon just nodded. Damian was more than a bit concerned, however, he knew that Jon would’ve told him right away if anything was seriously wrong. He didn’t have a habit of hiding his injuries like Damian did.
“What happened?” Damian asked, running a hand down Jon’s spine.
“Luthor.” Jon mumbled. “He was controlling some crazy strong robot. I had to fly the thing into space to destroy it.”
“Did he say something to upset you?”
Jon could be emotional at times, sure, but it was unusual for him to act so defeated just because of a difficult fight. Especially a fight that he’d ultimately won. Damian wondered if the issue was more about the man behind the robot. Luthor had always had a penchant for dramatics, and oftentimes built audio devices into his tech so that he could speak to his opponents while remotely fighting them. He’d been known to get under Clark’s skin more than once with his comments, it tracked that he’d try to do the same thing to Jon.
“Suprisingly, no.” Jon let out a wry laugh. “But everyone else is.”
“What?”
“Turn on the news. Any channel.”
Damian picked up the remote the side table and turned on the television. Sure enough, it didn’t take long to find a channel reporting on Jon’s recent fight. Just as Jon had said, every news channel was covering it, and none of them seemed to have anything good to say. Damian grimaced, and tried to turn the T.V. off, but Jon took the remote out of his hand before he could.
“You don’t have to listen to this.” Damian said.
“I can’t stop listening.” Jon reminded him, gesturing towards his ears. Super hearing was one power Damian would not want to have.
The channel they had landed on featured a female news reporter wearing an offensively loud purple pantsuit and eyeshadow to match. Her expression was solemn as she stared into the camera, as if she were about to report on some great tragedy.
“I’m reporting from downtown Metropolis, where, just a few hours ago, Superman battled a rogue robot. However, this is not the Superman we all know and love.”
“No.” The woman continued. “This new Superman is needlessly reckless. He does not seem to have any regard for the destruction he has caused.”
Damian rolled his eyes, this woman was clearly a moron. She had no clue what she was talking about. Jon was so concerned for the world around him, sometimes to a fault. He’d never held the kind of indifference in his heart for human life that Damian used to.
Next to him, Jon just groaned and buried his face in Damian’s thigh. Damian pat his arm gently, hoping it was calming.
The camera panned away from the reporter to show the scene behind her. There were several buildings that were completely demolished, the sidewalk had craters in it, and there were multiple cars on the road with dents in them. Not a pretty site, but fairly on-par for any fight involving a Kryptonian.
The news reporter continued to narrate while the camera zoomed in on different areas of damage. “As you can see, this block is nearly completely destroyed. Superman, although it feels wrong to even call him that, spent nearly an hour wrestling around with this robot to no avail. He caused much more harm than good before finally flying the robot away, something that the original Superman would have done immediately.”
Damian scoffed and grabbed the remote out of Jon’s hand, turning the T.V. off completely. He’d witnessed Clark fight plenty of times, and knew that he always caused a ridiculous amount of damage to public property. He’d also seen a fair amount of news reports and articles criticizing him for this.
Unfortunately, the court of public opinion was often harsh. More so in this scenario because no one liked change. All of this negativity was due to that more than Jon’s performance as Superman. Well, that and the fact that most people were imbeciles. However, Damian had a feeling that Jon wasn’t going to like that answer.
“Everyone hates me.” Jon whined, his voice a bit muffled against Damian’s leg.
“I do not hate you.”
“Great, I would hope my own boyfriend doesn’t hate me.” Jon sat up with a sigh, leaning back against the couch. “How do you do it? How do you constantly deal with all this attention?”
“I try not to pay it any mind.” Damian said. “I know who I am, I do not care about the opinions of people who do not matter to me.”
Of course, handling the media was different for him as Damian Wayne than it was for Jon as Superman. A majority of the rumors the tabloids spread about him weren’t true, so there was no point worrying about them. Jon being questioned about his capabilities as a superhero, his ability to save people, was much more unsettling.
Jon nodded, but he looked unconvinced. His gaze was unfocused in a way that Damian knew meant he wasn’t completely there. Most likely, he was listening in on every bad word being said about himself around the world.
Damian reached over and took Jon’s hand. He squeezed it tightly, knowing Jon needed the pressure. Jon’s eyes flicked over to him, though they were still dull.
“Everyone is a critic.” Damian told him. “It is easy for people to be judgmental when they are watching from the outside, when they have never had to make the calls we have to make. You cannot let them unnerve you.”
“But they were right. I knew I didn’t have that fight ten minutes in. I should’ve flown the robot away the second I realized that.”
“As they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. There is no way to change what happened, but now you know for the future.”
“I guess.” Jon shrugged. “I just… I’ve only been temporarily covering for my dad for a few weeks and it already feels like everything I do is wrong. I keep messing up. What am I going to do when I take over as Superman permanently?”
Damian squeezed Jon’s hand again. “You will make an amazing Superman when the time comes.”
“I’ll never be like my dad.”
“No one is asking you to be.” Damian stated. “Do you expect me to be like my father?”
Jon chuckled. “Rao, I hope not. You’re already repressed enough as it is.”
“Rude.”
Damian swatted at Jon, but he caught Damian’s wrist easily. He moved it to the side and pressed a kiss to Damian’s cheek, before dropping his head on his shoulder. Damian wrapped an arm around Jon’s waist, pressing him more firmly to his side.
“You are not your father, as I am not mine, and that is not a bad thing.” Damian said, mostly into Jon’s hair. “That does not make you less of a hero. Neither do your mistakes.”
“Thanks, Dames.” Jon sniffed. Damian didn’t miss the way he wiped at his eyes. “Can we put on a movie or something?”
Damian picked up the remote and turned the T.V. back on. He switched to a channel playing some sappy romantic comedy. Not exactly Damian’s taste, but Jon liked it.
As the movie played, Jon relaxed into Damian more. Damian pressed a kiss to his hair and let himself relax as well.
+1
Truth be told, Jon hadn’t really been paying all that much attention when Damian had told him why he would be gone for the next few days. Something about a recon mission for some case Bruce had been trying to close? Possibly?
Right now, though, he was really wishing he had been paying more attention. Maybe then he’d know why he could hear Damian rushing up the steps of their apartment building when he wasn’t supposed to be back for two more days.
Or, more importantly, why his heart was racing.
Jon went to the front door. He opened it, only to find Damian already on the other side. He was still in his Robin uniform and trying to operate his keys with shaky hands. Two more signs that something was terribly wrong. After all, Damian would never normally risk coming through their front door in uniform, and Jon had seen Damian pick a lock while under gunfire without his hands shaking.
Damian looked up and immediately barreled into Jon, hard enough that it would’ve knocked him over if he were fully human. He wound his arms tightly around Jon’s neck, hands fisting in his hair and the collar of his shirt. Jon looped his own arms around Damian’s waist, and found that it wasn’t just his hands that were shaking, but his entire body.
“Dami?”
Damian just shook his head, burying it further into Jon’s neck. Jon could feel wetness on his skin, and he realized that Damian was crying.
Jon’s heart began thumping erratically in his chest. Damian didn’t ever get like this. He wasn’t needy for affection like Jon was, and Jon could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Damian cry.
“Damian? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?”
As Jon waited for a response, he leaned around Damian to pull the door shut and moved them further into the apartment. Unfortunately, Damian didn't seem keen on answering, so Jon quickly used his x-ray vision to check for injuries. There weren’t any, thankfully, but that almost made it worse. If Damian were hurt, Jon could’ve just taken him to the Bat Cave to get patched him up and everything would’ve been fine.
Jon didn’t know what to do here, he couldn’t fix anything if Damian didn’t tell him what was wrong. All he could do was hold him just as tightly and murmur reassurances into his ear and hope it helped.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Damian calmed down. The tears slowed and his breathing evened out. Jon could hear his heartbeat ring out its usual, steady rhythm once more.
“Dami?”
Damian nodded, carefully detaching himself from Jon and taking a step back. Jon immediately missed his touch, but he knew that if Damian was doing this, it meant he needed the space. He wasn’t as adverse to touch as he used to be (not in the slightest, considering how much he initiated touch with Jon nowadays), however, there were times where it could still be overwhelming for him.
“I am alright.” Damian’s eyes were still wet, and he sounded slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I did not mean to alarm you.”
“No.” Jon took Damian’s hands in his own. “Don’t apologize.”
“You were worried about me.”
“I worry every time you go on patrol.” Jon retorted. “Are you going to start apologizing for that?”
“Tt.” Damian rolled his eyes, but he was smiling slightly. Mission accomplished.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Damian took in a shaky breath. “Father and I ran into Scarecrow during our stakeout. He had fear toxin.”
Okay, at least that explained the… well… everything. Fear toxin was a special kind of horrific. Jon was lucky to have never experienced it himself, or to have seen Damian experience it (up until now, anyway). Damian had told him about it though, and Kon had as well the few times that Tim had gotten dosed.
“I saw you die.” Damian whispered, so low that Jon wouldn’t have caught it if not for his super-hearing. “I saw you die a hundred different times, in a hundred different ways and I could not save you. I could not- I could not do anything, I just watched. I watched you- you die and-”
Damian was breathing heavily, and his heart was racing. His hands twitched at his sides, reaching for whatever weapons he undoubtedly had hidden on himself at the moment.
He was clearly working himself into a panic attack, and, once again, Jon was a bit at a loss for what to do. Jon couldn’t remember ever seeing Damian like this. When he panicked, it usually looked more like working himself to death, not stopping until he found a solution to whatever was causing him anxiety.
Jon knew that his own panic attacks were resolved by someone holding him. He liked the pressure of someone’s arms around him, it felt grounding. However, he had a feeling that Damian would find that more restraining than comforting.
“Damian.” Jon put his hands on Damian’s shoulders. “Look at me, I’m fine, I’m right here.”
Damian just shook his head. “But you weren’t! You were dead!”
“It was just the fear toxin, you know it makes you hallucinate.”
Damian didn’t respond, his eyes were becoming unfocused. He didn’t seem to be hearing Jon, which meant that Jon needed to get through to him some other way.
Slowly, making sure to telegraph his movements to not startle Damian, he took one of Damian’s hands and placed it against the pulse point on Jon’s neck. It was something Damian had taught him, actually, back when they were children. He was insistent that Jon should know how to check if someone was dead without the use of his powers, just in case they ever crapped out on him. Who knew this was how he’d actually wind up using it?
“Dami, can you feel my heartbeat?”
Damian nodded. That was good, any response was good. Jon had been a little worried that he was going to start dissociating.
“Alright.” Jon continued. “Well that means I’m alive. Dead people don’t have heartbeats.”
Jon put his own hand over the one Damian had against his pulse. “I’m here, Damian. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jon felt Damian press his hand more firmly to Jon’s neck. His breathing slowed, and Jon could hear how it matched his own pulse. Jon didn’t miss the irony, usually he was the one using Damian’s heartbeat to calm himself down.
“How’re you doing?” Jon asked hesitantly.
“Fine.” Damian slowly put his hand down. “I would be better with a shower and some sleep.”
“I think we can make that happen.”
…
Jon didn’t sleep much that night.
Like clockwork, he woke up every hour to the sound of Damian’s racing heart. He supposed that was one of the consequences of being so in-tune with Damian. When his usually-steady heartbeat wasn’t, you know, steady, Jon tended to panicked.
Each time, he threw an arm around Damian- trying to find a balance between being comforting while not being suffocating- and told him to get some sleep. Yet, without fail, the next time Jon woke up, Damian was further away and still wide awake.
The fourth time Jon woke up, it was nearly morning, and Damian wasn’t even in their bedroom anymore.
Jon sighed and got out of bed. He knew where Damian was, where he always went when he was having a particularly rough night.
He pulled on a pair of shoes and threw on a hoodie. (He also grabbed an extra one for Damian, because, knowing him, he was probably outside in nothing but a t-shirt despite the winter chill). Then, being careful to make sure no one was watching, Jon climbed out the bedroom window and flew up to the roof of their apartment building.
Sure enough, there was Damian, sitting on the roof with his legs dangling off the side. Jon wasn’t sure what it was about the Bats and finding the highest, most precarious spot possible to perch themselves on when they were upset, but it never failed to give Jon a heart attack.
“Are you waiting for someone to see you? Maybe take a couple of pictures?” Damian practically spat out.
Jon just threw the sweatshirt at him in response before floating over to sit next to him. Damian caught it easily and tugged it on over his thin sleep shirt.
“What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.”
Damian rolled his eyes. “I meant, what are you doing here with me?”
“I don’t understand.” Jon said, tilting his head to the side.
“Of course not!” Damian snapped. “You don’t understand anything unless I spell it out for you!”
Alright, well that wasn’t good. Damian didn’t get mean like that anymore, not with Jon, not unless something was seriously bothering him.
Damian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
“What’s going on, D?” Jon asked hesitantly. “Is this still about the fear toxin?”
“Partially.”
“Damian, come on, talk to me.”
Damian let his hand fall away from his face and looked up, staring out at the city’s skyline. “Why are you in a relationship with me?”
Jon furrowed his eyebrows. “Um, because I like you. What kind of question is that?”
Damian’s gaze dropped down to his folded hands in his lap. “You shouldn’t.”
Jon’s heart shattered. Damian looked so small, with his shoulders hunched in on themselves and glassy eyes. Even his voice was meek. Damian was usually so confident and strong, never like this.
“Hey, don’t say that. Where is this coming from?”
“I told you before that the fear toxin caused me to hallucinate your death.” Damian whispered. “I… I also saw myself losing you in… other ways.”
“You saw us breaking up?”
Damian’s eyes flitted around the rooftop, refusing to land on something. He didn’t confirm or deny Jon’s question, but Jon knew him well enough to know the answer. Damian had had a lot of insecurities- about himself, about their relationship- when he and Jon had first gotten together. Despite how much better he’d gotten since then, deep-rooted feelings like that don’t just go away.
“Not just breaking up,” Damian finally clarified. “But you not wanting to be in my life at all, and I can understand it. I’m a lot to handle, I am not sure why you have put up with me for this long.”
“You’re not-” Jon started to argue, but Damian immediately cut him off.
“Yes, I am! I am intense and paranoid and defensive. I lash out when I am angry. You deserve much better.”
It took everything inside Jon not to lose control of his powers and rage against those words. Not to fly straight to Gotham and scream at Bruce for treating Damian more like a soldier than a son in his most formative years. Jon really, truly hated Damian’s parents sometimes for making Damian think he was so unworthy of love.
“Screw that. So what if you’re all those things? Everyone has flaws.”
“Jon.”
“I’m serious.” Jon insisted, doing his best to stay calm while also being firm enough that Damian would actually listen. “I’m not perfect either. I’m naive, I have a temper, I get jealous easily. I can keep going if you want to hear more.”
Damian shook his head. “You’ll get tired of me eventually.”
“Dames, I’ve known since I was ten. If I was going to get tired of you, I think it would’ve happened already.”
Damian didn’t seem to find the humor in Jon’s comment. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, looking so very sad that it made Jon want to cry.
“Come on, Damian.” Jon pulled one of Damian’s hands away from his knees and interlaced their fingers. “I hate when you put yourself down like this. You’re so much more than your worst traits. You’re smart and strong and kind and you care so much, even if you’d rather stab your eyes out than admit it. I don’t deserve better because there is nothing better for me. You’re the best thing in this entire universe, in every universe.”
When Jon was finally done, he found Damian looking at him with tears running down his cheeks. Jon reached out and gently wiped them away. He would’ve been nervous that he had somehow just made things worse, if not for the small smile on Damian’s face.
“I love you, Jon.” Damian said breathlessly. “You know that, right? I am aware that I do not say it as often as I should, but-”
Jon pulled Damian into a kiss, effectively cutting him off. He just couldn’t help himself, Damian was adorable like this.
Of course Jon knew that Damian loved him. So what if he didn’t say it often? Damian had multiple sketchbooks filled to the brim with drawings of Jon, he never shied away from Jon’s touch, and Damian’s careful heartbeat sped up just a little whenever Jon laughed.
Hell, some of his greatest fears were Jon dying or breaking up with him. Even if they were irrational fears (after all, there were very few things that could kill Jon and he’d have to be insane to break up with Damian), they still definitely meant something.
How could Jon not know that Damian loved him when it was so obvious?
“I know.” Jon whispered as he pulled away. “I love you, Dami.”
Damian sighed and leaned into Jon, the tension visibly melting from his posture. Jon shuffled around a little bit so that they could sit with Damian’s back to Jon’s chest. Jon wrapped his arms around Damian’s waist and pulled him close, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach- Damian’s hair, his cheeks, his jaw, his shoulders.
As they watched the sun begin to rise above the city, Jon couldn’t imagine anywhere else he’d rather be.