Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The story begins with Jonathan Kent, the high school guy everyone thought was nice and trustworthy. Jon loved the way everything was in his life, he had good grades, a perfect group of friends and was dating Kathy, his best friend since childhood. Nothing could go wrong for him.

Until a certain rich Gotham guy entered his highschool. Footsteps echoed through the hallways, amidst the murmurs of the students around.

‘It’s Damian Wayne.’

‘Who?’

‘The rich boy. Bruce Wayne’s son.’

‘What the hell is he doing here?’

‘He just came in a damn helicopter.’

Damian ignored the way some girls gave him the glad eye without any dissimulation and others who looked with contempt. At only seventeen years old, the guy inspired the same respect as his father, with his head held high, his expensive clothes and his confident walk. Seeing the world behind his dark sunglasses.

It was only a second, but Jonathan could see Damian's pupils moving in his direction as the boy walked past him, leaving an aura of coldness behind.

“This is ridiculous. What would someone like Damian Wayne do in our school?” The blonde girl whispered.

“I have no idea.”

It didn't take long for them to meet again, when Jonathan recognized his silhouette entering his classroom and sitting in the corner by the window a few meters from him.

When the teacher entered, the sunglasses finally came off, revealing the jade green of Damian’s irises that immediately caught Jon's attention. Those eyes were fixed on a book of classic poetry, with no intention of paying attention to Mr. Harrison's history class until the teacher noticed it and decided to intervene.

“What do we have here?” The entire classroom fell silent when Damian felt the teacher's gaze on him, so he looked up from the book on his desk. “Bruce Wayne’s son.” Mr. Harrison snorted.

Damian raised an eyebrow at the contemptuous tone.

“Well, Mr. Wayne, if you're smart enough to not pay attention to my class, I think you can answer me about the Eastern Roman Empire-”

“I prefer the term 'Byzantine Empire' divided into east and west, whose capital was Constantinople, currently Istanbul, culminating in its fall in the year 1453 AD. Although it was also affected by its many wars and its hierarchical order, which I consider absolutely unjust due to the abuse of power and corruption among the social classes considered inferior. Its downfall was inevitable with a mandate as low and lack of vision as that.” Damian finished with an imperturbable look that left the rest of the students stunned.

Mr. Harrison cleared his throat and the class continued, as if nothing had happened. Damian smirkes slightly and returns to his poetry book.

In most classes the same thing happened, Damian didn't pay attention, the teachers scolded him, he answered their questions without any problem, and finally they left him alone, with the guy turning a disinterested glance out the window from time to time.

Damian Wayne was easily the smartest student in school, so it doesn't take less than a week to gain fans and haters alike (teachers included), whether for his grades, his biting comments, or his cold-direct attitude. Although he was quiet and solitary, he only spoke when necessary (and that meant putting those who bothered him in their place or demonstrating his intellect).

At that moment Jonathan didn't know if he liked him or hated him.

Let's say he tolerated him.

Damian never spoke more than three words to him in a day, but he considered Jon competent, as he had said when they worked together on a task.

Jon went out to the back of the school to support his girlfriend by watching her play on the football fields. Although sports weren't his thing, he was never interested in them as a child, and that didn't change at all when he became a teenager. Gosh, he didn't even understand the points you got in basketball for shooting from certain distances.

While the soccer team was warming up, he heard the murmurs of some students a few meters below, pointing to the athletics track. That was when he paid attention to the team and ran into Damian, right there, preparing for a race with the rest. That only happened when someone tried to join the athletic team after the tryout season.

“Well, Wayne, let's see your times.” The coach held the stopwatch in one hand while giving the start with the other. The entire team started out jogging, increasing the pace until they were actually running.

Damian began to overtake his teammates until he was on par with the leader, Andrew Mason. The two boys shared a look, clearly challenging each other. Their legs moved fast and synchronized, their gazes always forward, increasing their speed to pass the other.

Andrew thought Damian would soon get tired of trying to follow him, but damn it, the boy was still there, right next to him and threatening to overtake at the slightest carelessness.

Jon didn't blink, suddenly interested in how this would end, same with the members of the team and the coach herself, everybody contemplating how both guys constantly surpassed each other by a few centimeters, only to equalize again with a couple of strides. But right at the curve of the track, Damian manages to overtake Andrew and get at least a meter ahead until the final.

It was very difficult for them to stop because of the speed at which they were going. Both were panting but only Andrew's legs threatened to give out.

“What a race! I had never seen anyone challenge Mason like that.” The coach applauded before patting Damian's shoulder. “Good job, Wayne.”

Andrew looked at Damian with some resentment as this one approached the stands to get his water bottle. When he looked up, found Jonathan's blue eyes fixed on him. They stared at each other until someone called out:

“Watch out!”

And so, Jonathan was painfully humiliated in front of the popular boy, when a soccer ball flew through the air straight at him, knocking him off the stands and hitting his head on the seats behind.

“Jon!” Kathy ran towards her boyfriend, who was clutching his sore cheek and starting to turn red. “Come here, we have to take you to the infirmary.”

So there he was now, lying on one of the beds in the infirmary, trying to relieve dizziness and headache when he felt a presence enter and approach him.

“Hi sweeti-” He sat up thinking it was Kathy but ended up with Damian and his imperturbable face. “Oh, sorry, I thought you were my-”

“You should pay more attention to what’s happening around you.” The shaky apology was interrupted by the Gothamite, offering him an ice pack which Jon cautiously accepted.

“Yeah, maybe I should.” Jonathan smiled embarrassed.

“This is yours.” The green-eyed handed a pair of glasses, which luckily were intact. Jon assumed that's why Damian was there.

“Thanks, I don't know how I didn't notice it before.” Seriously, for someone who had worn glasses since the age of eight, it was hard to believe. Kent was putting his glasses back on, with the intention of continuing the conversation but Damian was already leaving without looking at him again. Indeed, his mission had been to return the glasses. And now was done. So, bye.

Kayhy arrived not long after but Jon was still looking curiously at the ice pack in his hands before smiling.

In the last month, he and Damian had grown slightly closer—at least, Jon isn't nervous to approach him anymore, and Damian speaks to him more often, even if it's just to say sarcastic comments—whether from working together in class, meeting in the hallways or from always running into each other on the courts while Damian was practicing. That was already routine. They had become real colleagues, almost friends, some would say. But nothing solid. Not yet.

Jon was getting used to Damian’s cold attitude and hostile looks.

Now, Kent was in the library researching for an essay for his literature class. Since his parents were reporters, and he probably would be one someday too, he had to excel at writing. Just had to find a social or political controversy that interested him.

As he searched the shelves, he spotted Damian's signature spiky hair. He was standing on tiptoe, trying to reach a book on the top shelf with trembling hands. The tips of his fingers barely touched the shelf, so the boy cursed, about to look for the library stool, when a pale and larger hand effortlessly reached it for him.

“Here you go.” Jon smiled, handing the book of painting and drawing techniques into Damian's hands.

“Tt.” The shorter man looked away, clearly his pride was hurt when he was helped due to his lack of heightt. He needed his brothers to help him with this kind of thing at home –something Jason loved to make fun of, by the way– Now he was also condemned to be helped by his taller classmates. “Thanks, Kent.” He murmured, walking away to the reading tables.

Interestingly, Jon ended up choosing a book about corruption and the alarming number of crime and police cases in Gotham City. He didn't plan it at all, but the cases completely caught him, and what better way to talk about the topic than with an expert?

Damian didn't even bother to look up from the 19th-century painting book in front of him, along with three copies of oil paintings, color theory and anatomy books waiting in a pile when Jon took a seat with him.

“Will ya’ do your essay about art?”

“I’ve already finished my essay. This is much of a hobby.”

Although this hobby could very well become young Wayne's vocation, hundreds of paintings adorning his father's office and Alfred's bedroom could prove it. Landscape and nature paintings full of realism and elegance, not to mention the family portrait that hung above the fireplace in the mansion's great room.

Regarding his essay, Damian had excelled with a strong criticism of captive orcas and the constant mistreatment to which they were subjected in water parks and the supposed releases of these animals into the oceans, which were nothing more than smokescreens so that the deplorable owners could make money from the project and publicity, without even really worrying about the health of the orcas by releasing them into contaminated waters or calves which barely knew how to live outside of captivity.

Yeah, Damian's love for animals was immense and he was willing to defend them all.

“And are you planning to write your essay on Gotham’s crime activity?” He pointed to the book in Jon’s hands.

“I have to admit it wasn't my first option but I got caught up in it, even if some cases are so gory.” Jon murmured, barely containing a shudder at the truly graphic images of each case. Right, human trafficking, drugs, and maniacs are everywhere, but Gotham took it to the next level. “Is Gotham really that...grim?” He didn't want to say ‘horrible’ insulting Damian's hometown and his family name, which has great weight in the city. Though, judging by the smirk on the shorter boy's face, Damian surely guessed Jon's thoughts.

“Could say, it's no place for gentle, smiling farm boys.” Damian chuckled.

Jon rolled his eyes. There was that side of Damian that he met weeks ago.

The shorter one now had a habit of teasing about Jon's childhood town. Honestly, Jon hadn't thought Damian could be that scoffer, but didn't mind. On the contrary, it showed they trusted each other enough for that kind of joke.

Jonathan sometimes returned the favor, just like now.

“Well, I'm surprised the daddy’s gothic boy has gotten used to the bright light of Metropolis without an umbrella.”

That made Damian snort but still with some fun. “Speaking of which, what made you come to study here?” Jon leaned closer, his curiosity evident. “Aren't there schools for rich-spoiled brats in Gotham?” He smirked to continue the little teasing game they were having.

“Yes, there are, but you know, my dream was always to come to Metropolis.” The sarcasm was clear.

“Your father forced you to come here, didn’t he?” Jon raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Tt.” Damian crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “He decided I need ‘social skills’.” Spat the last thing. Jonathan then laughed out loud, earning disgusted looks and orders to shut up from the librarian.

Damian shook his head, looking at Jon in a look of both seriousness and amusement. What he'd told Jon about his social skills was partly true, but the atmosphere in Gotham certainly wasn't the best, much less the memories he had of his mother.

Chapter Text

Snow covered the streets and sidewalks of Metropolis, snowmen stared at you, and the Christmas lights were hung harmoniously. But all of this was nothing more than a cruel warning that all would soon be gone. The winter break’s over.

“Listen, the holidays are over, the snowy days are gone, so there will be no more time to loiter in this classroom...”

What a welcome. While Mr. Kingsley continued his morning sermon to the barely awake and listless students, Jon noticed the empty window seat where the youngest Wayne, normally sat.

Then the classroom door opened and Damian walked in with his backpack on his shoulder and his head down.

“You’re late, Wayne.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kingsley. Won’t happen again.”

“You're lucky you're one of the smart ones. Come in.” He instructed, everyone watching Damian walk to his seat.

That was beyond odd. Damian Wayne is never late. A plague of talking rabbits was more likely to take over the school than Damian being late.

“Mr. Kent, am I boring you?” The teacher yelled when he saw Jon distracted, still watching Damian take a seat in the chair next to him.

“Uh, n-no Mister Kingsley. I’m sorry.”

The ramblings of an apocalyptic world dominated by rabbits were gone, but the concern for Damian didn't disappear at all, it only increased because of the barely concealed bruise on his right cheekbone that he was interrogated about as soon as class ended.

“Oh my- Who made you that?!” Jon literally jumped from his seat to Damian's, having no regard for personal space, scanning the bruised cheek with worried eyes. “Don't tell me you got into a fight or something.” Although that wouldn't be so strange, considering Wayne's temperament. In fact, it would certainly improve his reputation as a popular-bad guy at school.

“Tt. of course not.” Damian reproached, instinctively stepping back as soon as Jon tried to touch the bruise with the tip of his index finger.

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing.” Damian spat, starting to frown.

“But-”

“You’re starting to be an authentic irritation, Kent.” Damian snarled in a cold tone, one Jon hadn’t heard spoken to him in a while.

“I’m just worried about you.” Jon frowned. “You don’t have to be that mean.”

“Why do you care, anyway?” Damian sighed, trying to calm his anger. “ Is none of your busin-”

“Friends care, Damian.” Jonathan interrupted with a determined glare that paralyzed Damian. He hadn't expected that, since no one had ever openly called themselves friends of his, and in fact, he hadn't called any of his classmates a friend, but had to admit that Jon was pretty close to what one was, he thought.

The shorter one swallowed before speaking again; his frown had completely disappeared and his voice softened.

“It's not that big a deal, and I really don't want to talk about it, Jonathan." He shrugged. "I'm fine. Don't worry.”

Jon wanted to continue asking and complaining to know the truth behind the bruise but Damian had been really clear. He just wants to forget the incident during the holidays.

Dick loved this time of year. He could bake cookies with Alfred, wear those ugly but classic Christmas sweaters and have a good excuse to hug his brothers more often. He loved everything about holidays.

But this year, there was an unpleasant surprise.

Just hours ago, the Wayne family was gathered at the mansion for Christmas, including Jason. He'd moved back a week ago thanks to Alfred, who'd convinced him to give the family (specially Bruce) another chance. That, and he was tired of paying rent for his apartment. They were about to open their presents when the doorbell rang, revealing a guest who hadn't appeared in years and wasn't welcome at all. Everyone became alert and defensive, especially Dick, who immediately stood in front of Damian to protect him, as did Jason, everybody aware of the harm this woman had caused the youngest Wayne as a child. Even Tim, though he didn't dare say it out loud, was furious and worried about Damian.

After years, Talia came to confront Bruce to let her see her son now, giving rise to a family dispute. Nothing went well for anyone, least of all for Damian, who was no longer a child and had the courage to confront his mother this time and order her to “stop fucking around and leave”. Didn't want anything to do with her. Just wanted to have a nice Christmas with his family.

But a hard and resounding blow landed on his cheek and was grabbed by the collar of his sweater to be severely scolded for talking to her like that. That definitely ended with the little decency and kindness the family had left.

That night, Damian was quietly sitting on his bed, looking everywhere except at Dick, sitting in front of him, applying a special ointment to soothe the reddish growing, painful bruise, threatening to turn purple right on his little brother's cheekbone, faded slightly into the boy’s tanned skin but visible enough.

The younger groaned as he felt the cold ointment against his skin along with the sharp pain in his cheekbone.

“Sorry.” Dick whispered, as he delicately spread the ointment with a finger over the hideous purple stain. His blue eyes reflected fury and disgust, gritted his teeth, but always careful not to let the anger show in his touch while he took care of Damian’s wound, unable to help but stare at his forearms, covered in deep, old scars from his childhood, contrasting with his smooth, tanned skin.

“Please stop looking at me like that.” Damian sighed, unleashing Dick's pent-up anger.

“I hate seeing you like this. I hate doing this.” He sighed and pointed at the ointment in his hand.

“Then don't do it, I can take care of it.”

“You know what I mean, D.”

Dick always took care of Damian's wounds when he was a child and arrived at the mansion. It had been a while since he had done so, and it filled him with sadness and anger. Those sad green eyes reminded him of the first time he met Damian, eight years ago.

///

Dick inspected the lonely Gotham park until he found a little kid wrapped in a black coat and green scarf, sitting on the swings. His new little brother, who had escaped from the manor and Dick couldn't blame him. None kid would want to hear their parents fighting. Bruce didn't take too kindly the sudden visit from his former lover and their son. The last time Bruce saw him, Damian was still a baby.

“Hey. I've been looking for you, kiddo.” Dick smiled, walking over and cautiously sitting down on another swing next to Damian. “You mustn't go out like that without an adult. It’s dangerous.”

Damian didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at Dick, just stared down at his own feet, raised a meter above the snowy grass, swaying slightly.

“I think we haven't been introduced. My name's Richard but you can call me Dick.” The older thought the toddler would remain silent until a small, soft voice emerged after two minutes.

“My name is Damian.” He probably would have said Al Ghul or Wayne, but preferred to leave it that way. His father was practically a stranger to him, so using Bruce’s last name didn't feel right in his own name, and Al Ghul brought back only bad memories.

“Pretty name.” Dick had never heard that name before, but he thought it suited the kid perfectly. It was elegant and, at the same time, adorable. Though the eight-year-old still wasn't smiling at all, his green eyes were dull in a way that broke Dick's heart, and as Damian's newly proclaimed older brother, he couldn't allow it. He adjusted his blue scarf and coat before standing up and walking behind Damian, giving him a gentle push on the back that forced his small hands to grab onto the swing chains.

“What are you doing?” Damian frowned, trying to look back at the older man.

“C’mon, kiddo! Have fun!” Richard gently pushed Damian again. It wasn't until the third attempt that the kid finally relaxed and imitated his older brother's smile.

“Higher!” Damian shouted with excitement, his eyes skyward, and Dick was more than happy to do his little brother's bidding. He loved watching Damian's hair fly through the air as the kid let out a childish laugh every time the swing reached its highest point before swooping back down towards Dick.

But a shadow appeared along with the clicking of heels, which ceased when a tanned hand with long, manicured nails skillfully stopped Damian's swing, preventing Richard from pushing him again.

“Damian!” The kid recognized her voice. Turning, he found himself staring into his mother's furious face and that look that frightened him so much. She pushed Dick away and yanked her son's arm toward her. “How dare you disobey me?!”

“Mom-” Talia slapped the kid really hard, leaving Richard horrified, watching Damian's green eyes sting with tears as he rubbed his cheek.

“If I tell you to stay at the damn manor, you obey!” Talia scolded as her hand tightened its grip on Damian's small arm.

“M-mom, please. It hu-hurts.” Damian scrunched up his face in pain, sobbing and whining, which only infuriated Talia further.

“Don’t you dare to cry, you little-” She raised her hand with the intention of slapping his son again but Dick reacted and automatically took Damian away from her.

“What’s wrong with you?! You can't treat him like that!” He hugged Damian, gently rubbing his sore arm and bending down to check the slightly swollen and red cheek, while the kid struggled between holding back his tears or crying freely.

“Shut the fuck up!” Talia glared extremely disgusted at Dick who returned the harsh look. “Damian, come here, now!” The kid glimpsed at his mother but didn't take a step, instead he hid behind Richard and held tightly to his older brother's arm, who gently stroked his head. It was then that Damian felt a warmth and protection that he had never felt before and finally let out the tears that his mother and grandfather hated so much. “I said come here!” She was about to take the toddler by force but Dick didn’t allow it.

“Stay away from him!” He yelled and picked Damian up protectively with the eight-year-old instinctively burying his face in his brother’s chest.

“What do you think you’re doing, Grayson? I’m his mother!”

“That doesn't mean you have the right to hit him and forbid him to cry. He's just a kid!”

“He’s weak, that's why he must be punished. It’s my job to toughen him up!”

Dick was stupefied. He didn't want to know anything more about this woman and her sick parenting methods, thinking abusing her son was a way to toughen him up and prepare him for the world.

“I'll tell Bruce. I won't let you hurt my little brother.” Dick hugged Damian closer, listening to the kid’s sobs.

“Brother?” Talia laughed. “You just knew him this afternoon and in case you forget it, Damian's custody is mine.”

“That won't be the case anymore. You'd better have a lawyer ready because you won't lay a finger on my brother again.” He emphasizes the word ‘brother.’

Obviously, seeing Damian again after eight years wasn't in Bruce's plans, but as soon as he saw Damian crying on Dick's chest upon returning to the mansion and Grayson screamed and told him what happened in the park, he couldn't stand having his kid near Talia.

Fortunately, thanks to his connections and his lawyer, the trial didn't drag on, and Bruce won Damian's custody in just six months, eventually moving him to Gotham with him and the rest of the family.

“You will pay for taking my son away from me, Bruce.”

He ignored Talia's complaints and threats as she was handcuffed and escorted out of the courtroom, and focused on Damian, feeling a surge of anger and pain at the sight of his face. There was a new bruise near his trembling lip, the toddler had said it was because of a blow he received from a classmate but the truth was written in his teary green eyes as he looked at his father.

“Young Master Damian's bags are already in the car.” Alfred announced as they headed for the exit.

Bruce swallowed his anger and sighed with relief knowing that Damian would now have the childhood he deserved. Far from the harm of his grandfather and his mother did to him.

“Ready?” He held out a hand to his son with a hopeful smile. Damian was about to take his father's hand but hesitated for a second. He turned to look at his mother and ran to hug her goodbye, taking everyone by surprise. Damian knew that woman hurt him, but as every toddler, he still loved his mom. The hug finished when he was separated by the guards, who took Talia with them. Damian then ran back to his father and immediately took his hand.

As they left, Richard excitedly carried his little brother to the car, telling him how wonderful it would be to live in the mansion, about his other two older brothers, his new room, his toys, and Alfred's delicious food. All the while Damian stared at him intently, a faint smile forming.

///

“Richard.” Damian pulled him out of his memories, gently moving his brother's fingers away from his face. “I'll be okay. I heal quickly.”

Dick hated that answer, Damian had always told him that, from his scraped knee as a kid to these horrible cases. That day in the park, he'd sworn to never let anyone hurt his brother again, but he'd failed miserably. Damian's bruise was a cruel reminder of that.

Kathy Branden was leaving Jonathan's apartment in the middle of the evening, a smile on her face, as she always did when she spent time with her boyfriend. As soon as she left the building, her smile faded when she noticed a tanned young man walking toward her in a rather too-stylish black jacket.

‘Damian Wayne?’

The blondie scanned Damian with a critical, especially the bruise on his cheek.

Damian Wayne wasn't her favorite person. She was grateful not to share any class with him and honestly didn't understand how Jon put up with him every day.

Apparently, the feeling was mutual. Damian sweep the blonde girl for a few seconds and moved on, coldly passing her.

Kathy was puzzled to see Damian walking in the direction she'd come from. And entering the same building. Probably the same apartment. Jon's one.

Jon got along well with Damian, really. He thought he was a smart, nice guy with a rather peculiar sense of humor, but that didn't mean he was planning on having the Wayne kid infiltrate his newly acquired apartment with the help of his parents when the moment he moved to Metropolis to continue his studies. But whatever it takes for a school project, right? Now that the teachers were eager to overload them with work.

“How do you know where I live?” Jon was shocked because he hadn't given Damian his exact address. His plan was to meet him at the bus stop on the corner. In fact, the boy arrived 15 minutes earlier than expected.

“Hacking the school database.” Damian responded as if it were the most natural in the world, leaving Jon even more stunned. This was a joke, right? Hard to know. That was the thing with Damian's peculiar sense of humor.

He invited the shorter man into his modest apartment. Although more than spacious enough for one person, it has a functional bathroom, a small kitchenette just a few meters behind a sofa, and a TV. Nothing too extravagant or luxurious, just the necessities for living.

“Looks like someone's early.” He commented mockingly, because even in that respect, they were contrasts. Jon was almost always late to everything, and Damian always seemed to arrive too early.

“Sorry if I interrupted.” Jon looked at him confused. “You and Branden. I ran into her on the way here.”

“Oh, yeah, Kathy, the one you hate so much and I don't understand why, when she's so nice.”

“Hate is saying too much but it's a little difficult for there to be people I like, just as it's equally or even more complicated for there to be people who like me.” Damian shrugged and returned to his usual seriousness, as if it were a topic that didn't really mind him.

“Well, I like you.” Jon said without thinking, noticing how every time he seemed to say something similar, Damian was dumbfounded. “And I assume you like me?”

Damian cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “Keep assuming it, Kent.” He pretended to sound hurtful, but his smile said otherwise. His real smile.

They were at the little table in the kitchen, Jon rapidly typing Damian's dictation into his laptop, adding a few of his own conclusions to complete the quantum physics paper, which he would have gladly contributed more to, but the subject simply wasn't his forte. There was a moment when Damian moved over to Jon’s side to review the report. At that moment, Jon truly saw Damian's face. He focused on the jade-green irises scanning the lines of the document with concentration, gleaming in the light from the screen, his long eyelashes and almond-shaped eyes. His slightly curved nose, his thin lips. The only thing that ruined the harmony on the tanned face was the purple bruise.

“Stop that, please.” Damian murmured without taking his eyes off the screen but feeling Jon's gaze on him.

Kent looked away, waiting for Damian to finish reviewing the essay, which was more than perfect. When he noticed that the sky was completely filled with darkness.

“Are you really going to Gotham at this time?” Jonathan asked, concern seeping into his voice.

Damian looked up, checking the sky and seeing 10:08 p.m. displayed on the laptop screen. He was beginning to plan his route back to Gotham, although Alfred or Dick would surely insist on coming for him if he notified the mansion. However, he preferred not to disturb the butler, who was surely about to take his well-deserved rest, or one of his brothers.

Until Jon noticed his frown and said: “You can stay tonight.”

Damian looked at him wide-eyed, on the verge of refusing.

“I honestly wouldn't want you walking the streets of Gotham alone at night.” The blue-eyed murmured, not trying to make a big deal out of it, though he meant it now that he knew all the most famous crimes in the neighboring city. “Come on, stay, it'll be fun.”

Jon's smile and bright eyes convinced Damian, also, he didn't feel like taking the bus to Gotham and then a taxi to the mansion—much less now that it started to rain— only to have to wake up in the morning and come back to Metropolis.

“That book surely affected you that much, didn’t it?” Damian smirked before muttered “I really appreciate it. Thanks, Jonathan.” Damian showed a smile, small but sincere.

“Yes!” Jon cheered up. “Hungry?”

“A little.”

“So why don't we make dinner and watch a movie?” Jonathan looked beyond excited, like a toddler who had just invited his best friend over for a sleepover.

“Good for me but I’m a vegetarian, so if you have anything that doesn't have meat in it, I'd really appreciate it.” Jon was tempted to grimace in surprise, as Damian looked incredibly embarrassed.

“Of course, don’t worry.”

Many people, at first glance, see Damian Wayne and run away or confront him, simply thinking he's an arrogant rich brat. But that was just a shield. Jon discovered Damian's hidden side. He managed to crack the armor of derogatory comments and harsh stares that hid young Wayne's kindness and generosity.

The unbearable sound of the alarm interrupted Jon's sleep, marking 6 in the morning. It was still very early for him, but he had already snoozed it three times, and if he did it one more time, he wouldn't make it to school.

He got up lazily until he heard a noise in the living room, waking up completely. There, he found Damian finishing tying his uniform tie. It was then that the clueless teenager remembered that his friend had slept on the couch and now was more than ready for school, unlike him, who was still in pajamas and with his hair messed up.

“You’re finally awake.” The green-eyed greeted with a smirk. “Now I know why you are always late for the first class.”

“I’m not always late.” Jon snorted. “The last two days I was on time.” He smiled victorious.

“Wow, you should have received a trophy: ‘Jonathan Kent, the student of the year.’” Damian mocked.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Jon laughed sarcastically. “You wake up in a good mood, huh?”

“Tt.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“Half an hour ago, I was tempted to go turn off your alarm myself and kick you out of bed.” He smirked as he packed the rest of his books. “Hurry up, I’ll see you at school.”

One weekend Damian was more than ready to go out when an intense smell of coconut cologne and seawater hit his nose as soon as he crossed the door of the mansion, bumping into Dick, who just arrived from work.

“Lil D!” Dick took the opportunity to hug him and ruffle his meticulously styled hair on purpose. “Are you going out?”

The younger one nodded, already intercepting Dick's offer to take him wherever he was going to. “No need to drive me, thanks. I'll take the bus.”

That definitely threw Grayson off.

“By the way, I'm staying with a friend tonight.”

Now Dick's jaw drops. He wanted to interrogate Damian as soon as possible, distrusting that this friend really existed but wanting to have faith. Since Damian's too old for imaginary friends, wasn't he?

By the time he realized it, Damian was already out of reach, walking calmly to get his transport to Metropolis, where his real friend was waiting for him, a block from the apartment.

“Damian, c’mon, I’m starving!” The taller boy complained, running over to the green-eyed to grab him by the wrist to speed up the pace towards the pizza place on the corner.

Damian only smiled as he was pulled by a cheerful and hungry Jonathan, listening to him undecided on whether to order his half-pizza pepperoni or Hawaiian, since the other half would be vegetarian for Damian.

‘Yeah, a good friend.’ He thought, watching with a smile Jon's firm grip slide into his hand.

Chapter Text

“Double shifts?” Jon pouted adorably, refusing to let Kathy go to the back room of the coffee shop where he worked to pay half the rent. At first, Jon tried it to get some extra money, since, luckily, he had his parents' support in paying the full rent, as long as his grades didn't drop. And, truth be told, he wasn't keeping that deal very well, so he gave up and buried himself in his arithmetic and chemistry textbooks.

“Sorry, Johnny.” The girl smiled him pityingly, clearing the table next to her.

The plan was for Jon to surprise his girlfriend at the end of her shift with movie tickets and a delicious dinner, and then drive her home like a true gentleman. Just like he usually did every week, but just today, Kathy had arranged with her boss to assign her extra shifts.

“Maybe for next time.” The girl ruffled his hair and kissed his cheek before loading the tray with dirty dishes and disappearing into the kitchen. She didn't see Jon slump against the table, staring at the movie tickets, utterly frustrated.

Perhaps it was the first drops of rain hitting the cafe window, or the distinctive shade of dark green of a jacket, that made him think of a certain boy from Gotham, whose favorite color was that same shade of green, and who loved rainy days. Then Jonathan picked up his cell phone and searched through his contacts. He got an answer after the third ring.

“Kent.” The answer came with that serious and polite tone of the young Wayne.

“Hey, Damian. Are you free this afternoon?”

The afternoons with Damian became more and more frequent, sometimes for schoolwork and studying, as Damian had become a sort of quantum physics and chemistry tutor for Jon. And other times they simply enjoyed each other's company, even if Damian denied it and made up endless excuses, because that's what they were, excuses to avoid saying that he simply liked being with Jon, but the boy knew it deep down. The two had become close.

Maybe too much.

As Damian's visits to Jon's apartment had also increased considerably.

“Holy shit.” As soon as he left the shower, Damian collapsed face down on the sofa, his entire body aching. Wayne had once told Jonathan he ran to relieve stress, and today he'd overdone it.

“I guess you're too tired to choose tonight's movie.” Jonathan sang with a wicked grin as he took the remote.

“Don't even think about it, farm boy.” Damian tried to get up to take control from him but it was useless due to the exhaustion of his muscles, he could barely lift an arm. They ended up watching one of Jon's favorite Ghibli Studios movies, which Damian also liked, but wouldn't admit it, much less in front of Jonathan.

When the movie ended, Damian was already on the verge of falling asleep.

Maybe it was his twisted posture, which was sure to leave him with a sore neck and back in the morning, or his newfound affection for him, but Jon didn't want to leave him on the couch that night. Just thinking about it made him feel extremely guilty.

“Hey, why don't you come sleep with me tonight?” When the words came out of his mouth he surprised himself, he could very well find a double meaning in that proposal, like when he said it to Kathy. “I m-mean it would be more comfortable for you and I would feel t-terrible if I left you sleeping there again! Do you want to make me feel like that?” Jon faked a pout, starting to pull on Damian's arm to get him to cooperate.

“Tt.” Damian lazily got up from the sofa, heading to Jon's room, not knowing if it was his tiredness that prompted his decision with the promise of a comfortable bed, or the strange comfort he felt when Jonathan climbed into bed with him that prevented him from leaving.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Thanks for this.”

“Told you it would be better than the sofa.”

They both chuckled, staring at each other in the darkness.

“Good night, Jon.” Damian whispered before rolling on his back and closing his eyes.

“Night, Dames.”

Jon woke up in the middle of the night. There was no cause, it just happened. He glanced around his darkened room, his anime and vintage posters vibes on the wall, his small shelf of books and comics, his nightstand with his phone charging and a lava lamp, and just inches from his face was Damian's back. And not only that. His own arm wrapped around the shorter man's waist.

Jon felt his nose brushing the hair on the back of Damian's neck, smelling the rich lavender scent of his shampoo.

♡’Thump Thump. Thump thump.’♡

He immediately pulled away from the other boy. Con su brazo aún sintiendo el calor al estar presionado contra Damian pero His mind quickly came up with the idea that seemed most convincing: He must have mistaken his presence in the bed for Kathy’s in his sleep. It was instinctive. Nothing more. That was the cause. There was no reason to make a fuss. Hopefully, Damian hadn't even noticed.

That thought crossed his mind as the tanned boy turned to face Jon, just two inches from his face. Jonathan felt as if his bed had suddenly become a hellish furnace, his face was burning and he had a great urge to throw off the sheets.

♡’Thump Thump. Thump thump.’♡

His blue eyes widened as he felt Damian snuggle closer into the pillow, feeling his presence even closer on the mattress.

♡’ThumpThumpThumpThumpThump ThumpThumpThump.’♡

Many teenagers go through situations of love triangles or mixed feelings, without knowing which girl they truly love but it couldn’t be that easy, not for Jonathan and his persistent bad luck. His case was about a girl and a boy. His girlfriend and his handsome best friend.

Jonathan’s heart was caught between Damian and Kathy. Sometimes literally, like in this moment, sitting in the middle of both of them, watching a movie. They were halfway through the movie when the taller boy felt a weight fall on his left shoulder. He looked down to find Kathy dozing comfortably, using his shoulder as a pillow, making Jon smile without even thinking about it and patting his head.

But he heard Damian's quiet chuckle on his left side. He wasn't even paying attention to the movie anymore; was more focused on seeing Damian's subtle smiles or quiet laughs that always caught his attention.

♡’Thump Thump. Thump thump.’♡

That sound had become very recurrent when the youngest Wayne was around him.

Like when they washed dishes together and ended up talking about trivial things in the middle of the night in the kitchen. Every time Damian brushed his soapy hands against Jon's to receive another plate or when their shoulders collided, his heart went faster.

♡’ThumpThumpThumpThumpThump ThumpThump.’♡

When Jon made fun of the way Damian stuck his tongue out when he was really focused on something, like a test, an assignment, a drawing, or just tying his uniform tie, the shorter boy would glare at Kent in response to his laughter, but his mouth would curl into a half-smile.

Or when he identified Damian's expensive colony in the middle of the school hallways before reaching him to go to classes together.

“Wait.” He stopped before entering the classroom and stood on his toes, extending his hands toward Jon's face. “Better.” Damian murmured with a smile once he straightened Jon's glasses.

Other situations weren't so innocent that made Jon blush intensely, like the last two incidents.

One:

Jon walked into his room not expecting to find Damian there, getting dressed.

“Oh my- Sorry!” The taller teenager immediately turned around and covered his eyes, trying to erase the image of his best friend almost naked in his bedroom. Didn’t even notice that Damian was ransacking his closet because he didn't have any clean clothes to sleep in. All Jonathan could focus on was the shorter boy's tight black boxers and defined abs.

“I’ll borrow one of your t-shirts to sleep, hope you don’t mind.” Damian hummed, finishing putting on a pair of baggy shorts and Jon’s gray t-shirt with the kanji for “sun” unfazed by what had happened.

“Y-yes, no! I m-mean no problem.” Jon had the courage to look back at Damian, noticing the shirt was a little big for him, revealing part of his collarbone.

“What?” Damian blinked.

“You look cute.” Jon smirked.

“I’m not cute.” Damian frowned, trying to look menacing but it was difficult if he was wearing a shirt that reached his knees, making him look shorter and younger than he already was.

“Yes you are.” Jon sang, trying to hide the heat in his cheeks and calm his heart, which if it continued like this, would burst out of his chest. He told himself it was normal. Damian was his best friend, nothing more, and what he felt for him was nothing but affection. Especially since the Gotham boy only opened up to him.

Those were just moments between friends that meant nothing more.

He has a girlfriend. He loves Kathy.

Doesn’t he?

He thinks so. No. He’s sure. But wouldn't deny that he liked those little moments with Damian, when his heart beat strongly.

Especially in situation number two:

When the school day ended, and the hallways filled with students in a hurry, grumpy, or excited. A group of older guys ended up pushing Jonathan aside as they fled the school, and he ended up pinning Damian against the lockers, their faces dangerously close and their noses touching. The closeness was such that he could even see himself reflected in Damian's pupils and analyze his eyes in detail, with certain flashes of lime green against the jade as Wayne's eyes opened wide.

He could feel the air coming out of his nose brushing against his skin.

Okay. Now Jon would have a heart attack.

“Jon…” They both turned around and saw nothing but Kathy, whose smile faltered, standing at the end of the hallway, waiting for her boyfriend.

Wayne reacted first, clearing his throat.

“Kent...” He didn't know what to say frankly and Jon ended up taking several steps back, not even caring about the dull pain in his shoulder when he was pushed, now that he remembered it.

“I- I should- go…” He couldn't think of anything better; the other part of his mind resisted shouting the cliché 'Wait! It's not what it looks like!' at Kathy because that would make it seem like something had happened—and nothing had! He was pushed! It was an accident!

“Yeah…” Damian quickly regained his composure, starting to walk toward the exit almost at the same pace as the couple. “I should go home too, otherwise, Dick will have the entire Gotham PD looking for me if I don’t make it back to dinner on time.” It could have been an exaggeration or a, but the guy meant it as the absolute truth from the day Richard and some of his fellow GCPD members surprised a thirteen-year-old Damian by arriving at the mansion fifteen minutes late from fencing practice.

Damian gave a vague wave and quickened his pace toward where Alfred would pick him up. He hadn't planned on staying with Jon today, for which the taller one was inwardly grateful, his heart pounding in his ears.

He'd practically become a nervous bomb every time Damian was in the same room, near him. His heart—poor thing—it surprised him how it hadn't burst out of his chest yet, racing away, skipping to the beat of his growing confusion.

♡’Thump Thump. Thump thump.’♡

Chapter Text

Damian wasn't impressed by Jonas Myers' magnificent house. The guy lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Gotham, don't blame him.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was engulfed by loud music, neon lights, and the smell of alcohol. He was trying to make his way through the dancing, screaming, and drinking teenagers.

To say he felt uncomfortable was an understatement.

He tried his best to keep his head high, with that confident attitude that characterized him, but in reality, he felt lost. Damian wasn't a sociable person; in fact, he hated parties, whether they were the monthly galas his father threw or these kinds, with high school guys doing silly things, gossiping, or falling over drunk.

But he had two good reasons for being there.

The first was that Dick persuaded him, telling him about his own experiences at those parties when he was in high school, advising his little brother to enjoy his youth. The second was a certain bespectacled boy he found in the kitchen, pouring a glass of beer.

“Damian, you're here!” Jon practically threw himself into Damian's arms, his usual radiant smile on. “For a moment, thought you weren't coming.”

Damian noticed that Jon was strangely more affectionate than usual.

“I decided to come at the last minute.” Damian smiled, but couldn’t help but notice the absence of a certain blonde girl with freckles next to Jon. “Your girlfriend didn’t come?”

Jon shook his head. “She had to study for Miss Garcia's test, and besides, she doesn't get along very well with Jonas.” Kent muttered, taking another sip of beer before throw the glass and shout: “Come here, let's dance!”

“What- No. I’m don’t really like-”

Jon literally pulled Damian into the living room, where there was a makeshift dance floor. By now, Damian was dying of humiliation. Jumping, moving, wiggling, twerking, wasn't his style at all. He felt like an idiot, standing there among the crowd while Jon moved so fluidly, jumping to the beat of the music.

“C’mon Dami!”

‘Dami?’

Jon drank even more from another disposable plastic glass that Damian doesn't know where the hell he got it from! It obviously wasn't water. He suspected they'd added even more alcohol to the drink because Jon was more energetic and even brash than usual.

“Come here!” Jon grabbed Damian's hands, urging him to move frantically with him. The sparkle in his blue eyes was incomparable, and he didn't even notice he'd dropped his glasses, which, thankfully, Damian had taken care of. He'd be Jon's unofficial glasses keeper from now on, wouldn't he?

“Hey, how about we go for a snak?” Damian was clearly nervous.

“Sure!” Jon led Damian to the bar, running, where he gorged himself on popcorn. Damian barely ate anything; he just wanted to get away from that music-filled hellscape. Then saw Jon down a glass in one gulp until it was empty.

“Hey!” Damian took the glass from him; the bitter, unpleasant smell of beer almost made him throw up. And it definitely had way more alcohol than it should have, to get drunk on just one glass. And he didn't know how many Jon had had so far. He wanted to think two at most. And as expected, they had their first effects. Almost a minute passed when Jonathan practically staggered over and collapsed. Damian barely caught him before he hit his head, his hands firmly on Jon's waist.

“You caught me.” Jon looked up, his cheeks flushed and his blue eyes bright, slowly rising until he was practically hanging off Damian, hugging him, their faces incredibly close.

“All right, partygoer.” Damian raised an eyebrow. “Time to take you home.”

“But Damiii~” That was a pout? “I don’ wan to.” Definitely was a pout.

His words were one thing, but his actions were another. Jon slowly pulled away, staggering toward what he assumed was the exit, almost crashing face first into the walls. It was Damian ended up grabbing him and guiding him toward the exit where he had parked one of Bruce's cars, sat a grinning Jon in the passenger seat, and fastened his seatbelt.

“Tt. No more alcohol for you, Kent.” Damian sighed as he prepared to drive to Jon's apartment. He only got more laughter from this one and comments about the car moving at an incredibly fast speed, but Damian assumed it was the alcohol talking.

Getting Kent out of the car and into the elevator was relatively laborious. Damian had to carry the young man's entire weight on his arms or shoulders to keep the Kent boy standing, or at least drag him through the hallways. Not to mention how he got the key from Jon's pocket, with the taller boy on the verge of falling and laughing his head off.

They stumbled into the dark apartment until reached Jonathan's bedroom, where Damian forced him to drink half a glass of water before finally, and with almost no delicacy, plopping Kent down onto the bed.

He has never hated those two inches of height difference more than he does now. Dragging someone (a drunk person, at that) taller than you wasn't fun at all.

“You owe me one, Kent.” He grunted, stretching his aching arms and back before bending down to take off Jon's shoes and cover him with a blanket. “A big one.”

He was about to get up and leave the room when a cold hand took him by the arm and pulled him onto the bed, on top of the inert body there.

“Dun’ go, Dami.” Jon murmured. Still with that silly grin, but looked half asleep. The hand on Damian's arm moved until it completely wrapped around the shorter man's waist, pulling him close to the other body. “Please…stay here…”

Damian opened his eyes slightly in surprise as Jon's blue ones, sleepy but bright in the moonlight, looked up at him.

“I like it when we're so close.”

“Jon, you're drunk.” Damian excused as he tried to get the hand on his waist to release him, but only succeeded in making the grip tighten and Jon's left hand rest on his cheek, gently brushing his fingers against his smooth, tanned skin. “Jonathan…”

“And you’re beautiful, Damian.” The shorter young man froze. Then Jon's lips pressed against his, moving expertly into a warm kiss. Jon's whole hand cupped Damian's cheek and the other caressed his waist, with Damian holding on to the sides of Kent's slender figure.

There it was again, the erratic beats but now in both hearts.

Jon had kissed Kathy many times. Too many to count. He knew what a girl's lips felt like, but not a boy's, especially not Damian’s and he'd never imagined they'd feel this soft and so good.

When Jon's hand moved to caress the back of Damian's neck, the shorter one reacted, open his eyes and forced himself to move away, sitting on the bed, completely bewildered.

“What- Jon...”

Jon sat up inches from Damian. “Sorry but...I wanted to do that...”

Damian shook his head with a regretful look. “You don’t know what you want or what you’re doing.”

Jon frowned, almost with an exasperated face. “It's just that...you…You confuse me so much, Damian Wayne.” He pointed accusingly at Damian before dramatically lying back down himself. “But I do want to kiss...you…” His voice faded into the night air. The idiot had fallen asleep. And Damian was still there, sitting up in bed, watching him, touching his lips, still able to feel the invicible touch of Jon's on them, as well as his hand on his cheek.

He stood up, dizzy as if he'd had too much to drink, and left the room, taking one last look at Jon and that goofy smile on the corner of his lips.

Damian climbed into his car, running a hand over his face, also rubbing his hair with something close to desperation. He didn't know exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

But did he like the kiss?

He swallowed, blushing a little.

‘Shit.’ Damian knew the answer.

He had NOT disliked the kiss.

The sunlight burned his blue eyes, and his head was killing him. He definitely wouldn't drink like that again. Not after vomit flooded his senses and he ended up slumped against the toilet. Then he felt a pat on his back and heard a sweet voice giving him encouragement and comfort.

He turned around immediately and a friendly smile from Kathy greeted him.

“I mustn't leave you alone during these parties. Now I know.” Branden murmured with an arched eyebrow.

“What are you-” Jon could barely speak without a deadly migraine coming on, and the sunlight wasn't doing his eyes any good. He was lifted up and helped into the kitchen where delicious eggs and fresh orange juice were waiting for him, along with two migraine aspirins.

“I came as soon as I received Damian's call.”

“Damian?” The fork nearly fell from his hands, feeling everything around him finally stop spinning.

“Yeah, I don't know how he got my number. Creepy, by the way.” Kathy faked a shiver. “But he brought you home last night and told me you were pretty drunk and would probably need help in the morning.” The blonde smiled at her boyfriend. “I may not like him, but I really appreciate what he does for you.”

Jon would have smiled back if it weren't for the flashbacks of last night. The way he clung to Damian, hugged him, danced with him. And finally, Damian's face close to his, both of them in his bed.

He kissing Damian.

Guilt hit him, especially as he looked into his girlfriend's innocent eyes and sweet smile at him.

“Yeah, he's a good friend.” He forced a smile back.

'What the fuck I've done...'

Chapter Text

Jonathan had never felt so miserable, confused, and guilty in his entire life.

His heart ached every time he looked at Kathy's face as the blonde girl smiled at him with complete innocence and most importantly: trust.

Jon really tried hard to forget what had happened that night, blaming it on the alcohol and his poor self-control. Damian himself had told him that very thing when he'd been forced to deal with his school life and had the courage to face the young Wayne at school, that it was better to forget.

But uncertainty stalked Jon's mind every night and day, avoiding Damian almost completely, the only awkward and wordless moment they had shared was during lab sessions, where they would sit together, take notes, mix chemicals with each other's help, glance at each other for a second before looking away and repeat the pattern for the rest of the class every 10 minutes until the session was over and they each said goodbye with a cold "See you later" and drifted away from each other despite going to the same classroom. In all other respects, it was nothing more than distant glances, awkward brushes in the hallways, or short conversations.

And this was also beginning to noticeably affect his relationship with Kathy, as he felt like a hypocrite and total trash when she held his hand while walking or when they were on a date, as if they were the perfect high school couple from a year ago.

But what if it really wasn't the alcohol?

It was another of his thoughts that kept him awake.

Alcohol was his trigger, the last barrier to fall to give in to something that was already planted in his heart, giving free rein to his curiosity, because he really wanted to kiss Damian.

Oh shit. He wanted to kiss a boy.

Kent didn't know how to feel about that, he had liked girls all his life. Couldn't remember a single time when he had felt even the slightest bit attracted to a boy in his entire adolescence, but the idea didn't bother him much if he thought about the fact that the blessed boy in question was Damian.

“Fuck.” He groaned, rolling back into bed, forcing the covers up over his head. The lavender scent of Damian's shampoo still permeated his pillow, as if seeking to torture him from a n entire city away.

He reached his limit one afternoon after school, with Kathy in his apartment, the flames of love and lust alight. Jon was dragged onto the bed and passionately kissed by the girl on his lap.

Guilt smacked him as his back hit the mattress and Kathy was on top of him.

“Stop it.” Kent carefully pushed Kathy away so he could sit up, feeling the mattress suck him into darkness and guilt.

“What is it?” Kathy smiled confused, and sat up in bed as she saw no movement from Jon to continue with their now pending business.

“I can’t.” He let out an embarrassed moan, looking away. He couldn't meet her eyes to say it, because he had to say it or he'd have a breakdown. The guy was never one to deal with guilt easily; he was honest and didn't like cheating or lying, much less to those he loved.

“You can’t?” Kathy made a funny face. “Jon, we already went through this a few months ago on our first time, there's no need to be nerv-”

“I don't mean that, Kathy.”

For once, the sweet smile on the girl's face vanished in favor of the serious, panicked tone she rarely saw from Jonathan. The boy felt the weight of guilt tripled for being the one responsible for wiping away that charming smile and possibly shedding the tears that would appear if he followed through with what he had planned to say.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” No, please, don’t call me Johnny. I don't deserve it. “Are okay?” Kathy extended a reassuring hand to Jon's cheek but he pulled away.

“I must tell you something.”Jon could already feel the lump forming in his throat and the slight temptation to change the subject now, maybe lie, but he was terrible at it and didn't want to. “I…did something and-” His voice broke, tears already burning in his eyes.

“Jonathan…You…”

Jon took a deep breath, gathering the courage to say it, knowing he would be ruining everything and possibly losing the girl he had considered the love of his life, but he wasn't so sure anymore and that made him feel worse.

“I kissed someone.” He let out a painful sigh, swearing he had seen the moment the happy, tender glow in Kathy's eyes faded and was replaced by bewilderment, hurt, and anger.

“What?”

“Forgive me, please. I-I was…drunk and…” Wanted to tell her he didn't know what he was doing that night, but in his conscience, Jon knew it, he longed for it, so he did it. There was no shortage of proof.

It was as if he had to remind himself that Kathy was the one he loved, but when you love someone, you don't have to force yourself to remember it, do you?

It's just there. In your heart, and Jonathan's heart had already spoken, in fact, it had shouted it that night.

Tears began to well up in Kathy's eyes, as did Jon's. Silent but painful cries.

The blonde pushed herself off the bed and turned her back on the boy, sniffing and staring at the ceiling.

“Who?” She exclaimed with extreme seriousness.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me, Jonathan, so who was the girl?”

If Jon wasn't busy crying and feeling like shit, he would have laughed at the irony, but that wouldn't sit well with either of them.

“He was…Damian.”

Kathy turned to him, her mouth and eyes wide open, and shedding even more tears.

“I'm so, so, so sorry.” Jon cried, with his hands painfully pressed against the face, taking off his glasses to wipe away the tears.

Kathy opened and closed her mouth, clearly debating whether to scream, cry, get angry, sad, or surprised. Her chest rose and fell to the rhythm of her sobs, muffled by angry sighs. Her gaze darted from Jonathan to the floor, to the ceiling, and back again to Kent.

“F-forgive me, Kathy, I-”

“You like him?” She interrupted him with the question Jonathan least expected. And Kathy had to ask again, more insistently when she saw that Jon was stunned.

“I-I don’t know…” The young man whined, pulling at his hair in desperation. “I’m so confused and I just…kissed him.”

Kathy glimpsed at him in shock before looking down at the ground and snorting. “You like him Jonathan.” She glared at Jon coldly in the eyes. “Or will you tell me he's just a good friend?” The blonde gave a bitter laugh. “I was aware of the way you peek at him, every time he was next to you, every time you two did something together, I could see it but I just didn't want to admit it.”

“Kathy-” She raised her hand as a signal for Jon to stop talking, grabbing her bag and walking toward the door.

“Whatever you do now doesn't matter to me anymore, Jonathan.” She glanced once more at the teenager in tears on the bed. “But you should be honest with yourself about how you feel, or you'll continue to torment yourself, when the answer is so simple.”

Jon looked up in disbelief, watching Kathy leave the apartment. With her final piece of sage advice for him.

That night, Jon ran back to school. He risked being run over twice in his desperation at the traffic lights, but he managed to make it to the courts in the back in one piece, almost fainting. His gaze caught Damian's figure in the distance, wrapped in a black sweatshirt, running on the track alone in the middle of the night, the wind ruffling his hair.

He was profoundly glad that his hunch had been correct and that Damian was still at the track, otherwise Kent would have had to go all the way to Gotham (which he would have done without hesitation) and nervously confront whoever had opened the door, most likely some imposing-looking Wayne, and ask to speak to the youngest member of the family urgently.

“Jonathan?” Damian had stopped in front of the boy blocking his path on the track, looking at him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

Jon would have loved for the fluidity and confidence with which they used to speak to each other to still be there; it would surely have made it much easier for him to approach Damian now and not feel an uncomfortable tension between them.

“Damian...have to- tell you...something...very important.” The guy could barely speak, his chest rising and falling unevenly and his mouth dry.

Jon pretended not to notice the way Damian frowned at him, adjusting his earphones. “You should go home, Kent, your girlfriend is probably waiting for you.”

His heart ached, and Damian was about to walk past him when Jonathan stopped him by the arm and stepped in his way again, prompting the young man to take off the earphones.

“No, I have talk to you now, Damian.” He tightened his grip on the shorter one's arm a little more, earning a look of bewilderment and anger from him. “Listen, I know things have been weird between us and that you said it was better to forget about what happened, but I don't want to do that.” Damian's puzzled face transformed into a more attentive one, interested in listening to Jon. “It's all been fucking confusing, and I'm scared, and maybe you think what I did was because I had no idea what I was doing that night, and maybe I didn't, for the most part…”

Damian's frown returned, he was about to speak but Jon took him by the shoulders and pulled them closer, staring into each other's eyes.

“But believe me, I really wanted to kiss you.” His pale hands moved up to Damian's cheeks, cupping them gently. “And I'm pretty sure I like you a lot, Damian.” Before the shorter boy could say anything, Jonathan pulled his face in for a kiss on the lips, expecting a shove or insult from Damian, but none came. Soon, he felt cold hands in his arms until they wrapped around his back, drawing them both closer together.

Jon took the opportunity to slide a hand behind Damian's neck and stroke his short hair. He remembered the feeling of warmth and adrenaline he'd felt that night, but much more vivid and palpable. Damian's lips were definitely softer and atracttive than anything else.

As they pulled away, the young Wayne still had wonder in his eyes, but it was easily replaced by affection, matching his trademark bright Wayne smile. Taking Jonathan by surprise, he lunged forward, pulling the taller boy down to join their lips again.

“I guess that tells me you feel the same way?” Jon laughed, readjusting his glasses.

“What do you think, farmboy?” Damian smirked.

Chapter Text

After a couple of weeks of flirting, knowing smiles, and lots of stolen kisses, Damian and Jon officially declared themselves a couple. This was reflected in the mood and attitude of the youngest member of the Wayne family, and the rest of people in the mansion were quick to notice. Damian hardly ever insulted his brothers anymore, he was more distracted when they were all together in the dining room, he spent more time on his cell phone than before, and his visits to Metropolis had increased.

Not to mention the sudden appearance of Damian's new friend at the mansion on the weekends. The Kent boy was always smiling in a stupid way, according to Jason.

Everything was very suspicious, was what Dick thought as he walked down the hall, finding his youngest brother's bedroom door ajar. Damian was getting ready to go to school. He was about to leave, but before that, he looked in the mirror once more, combing his hair better, almost excessively—more than usual—, also smoothing his jacket uniform and shirt until there were not a single wrinkle and checking that his shoes were impeccable. He wanted a perfect look, something that Dick couldn't help but notice.

“Since when do you embellish yourself so much to go to school?” Dick commented, leaning against the door frame with a mocking smile and an arched eyebrow.

“Tt. Unlike you, I care about reflecting a good appearance.”

Dick hummed, squinting, already suspicious of what was happening.

“Stop looking at me that way, Richard.” The younger huffed, trying to keep a serious expression as he picked up his backpack.

“See you at night, Little D.” The man shouted as Damian walked quickly down the hall, clumsily hiding his desperation to leave. Tim and Jason watched Damian's fleeting entrance into the kitchen. The young man barely raised his gaze, grabbed his smoothie, and practically fled the house. This earned an exchange of stupefied glances from the two older men sitting at the kitchen island.

“What’s wrong with the little Gremlin?”

“Dunno, but he hasn’t insulted me for the last entire week.” Tim sipped his steaming cup of coffee.

“Nor does he insult me ​​when I put something out of his reach to make fun of his height.” Jason looked away from the door where Damian had left and looked at Tim. “This is serious.”

“I think I know what's going on with our little and sweet brother.” Dick burst into the kitchen with a beaming smile, adjusting his tie and badge on his chest. His two younger brothers were waiting for the big reveal.

“Spit it out, Dickhead!”

Dick snorted. “Little D is in love.” The oldest spoke smugly and affectionately before Tim choked on his coffee and Jason dropped his fork and burst out laughing.

“We’re talking about Demon brat, a guy with a heart of stone unless you’re a homeless animal he wants to adopt.” Jason mocked.

“I know a fool in love when I see one.”

“Speaking from your own experience?” Jason smirked, getting a push from Dick.

“Then, you know who’s the fortunate one?” Tim seemed to finally come out of his stupor.

“I have my suspicions.” A certain boy with thick hair and the surname Kent came to his mind, but he wouldn't share it with his brothers; it wouldn't be his place to say it.

Then, he remembered how much Damian hated talking about romantic stuff when he was a child and did everything possible to change the subject, but deep down he knew that sooner or later his brother would find someone to love and apparently he had found him.

Now, he had a priority on his agenda: a friendly talk with Kent. Just to make sure Damian was in good hands

Damian was walking down the school halls until a hand on his shoulder surprised him.

“It’s me.” Jon greeted, leaning in, ready to kiss his boyfriend's lips, but Damian's hand denied him his goal.

“Jon, we already talk about this.” The shorter boy whispered somewhat alarmed, looking around to check that no one was watching them. “Discretion.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot it.” Even though his smile was still there, Damian could see Jon's eyes fading.

“It's only during school.” Damian muttered, trying to rekindle the spark in the boy's blue irises.

Jon nodded. “See you in Literature.” Patted Damian on the shoulder in a friendly manner before leaving, but less than five seconds later, Damian called out to him as he caught up.The green-eyed boy meticulously inspected the surroundings before standing on his tiptoes and bumping a quick kiss on Jon's cheek. That made him happy again.

The sunset was setting in the sky, between brushstrokes of orange and pink in the clouds, mixed with the soft blue of the sky.

“Wait! I'm not that fast…” Jonathan squealed as Damian pulled him by the hand up the stairs at full speed.

“Almost there, farm boy.” Damian smiled, already seeing the door to the roof.

Upon arriving, the first thing Jon did was dramatically throw himself to the floor on a small mat that they had got a few days ago, ever since that place became their refuge after school, where they could be completely alone.

“Tt. Dramatic.” Damian snorted, falling onto Jon's chest and watching the beautiful sunset above them.

“This is my favorite part of the day.” The bespectacled boy sighed, stroking Damian's hair before looking into his green eyes, which glowed with the hue of the sky. He placed his forehead against Damian's and then kissed his lips as the breeze ruffled their hair. “This is the only moment where I can kiss you without you pushing me away.” He said with resignation camouflaged in his tone, until Damian lowered his gaze and sighed in defeat.

“Already told you. I wouldn't want the whole school to start bullying us for this.” Her fingers delicately brushed Jon's hand.

“And I already told you that I didn't care what they thought of us.”

“People can be very cruel, Jon. Even in Metropolis.”

The blue-eyed boy snuggled Damian closer to his body, resting his cheek on the shorter one's head.

“I don't mind taking risks as long as I'm with you.” Jon blushed at Damian's gaze and that wide smile that was only for him. “But if you don't want to, that's fine too.”

Damian's smile grew wider, completely moved by Jon giving in to his desire to keep their relationship a secret.

“But will this only be at school?” He asked quickly, visibly distressed, earning a small laugh from Damian.

“Outside of school you can kiss me as many times as you want, promise.” Damian assured.

“But can I kiss you now?” Jon pouted. “Please. There's no one here.”

“Tt.” Damian snorted and caught his boyfriend to give him a kiss.

You didn't forget about Dick's pending talk, did you? It was all the man was thinking about lately, and he decided to be direct and that was it. Taking advantage of one of Jon's visits to the mansion, Richard himself opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grayson.” Jonathan did his best not to look down or hide his nervous hands in his pockets.

“Hello, Jonathan.” The older man smiled, telling Alfred, who was approaching the door, with a glance that he'd take care of this. “I assume you're here for Damian.”

“Yes, he’s helping me study for a chemistry test.”

“That's good. He must be a good boyfriend.” He dropped the bomb and held back his laughter as he watched Jon's eyes widen, the tips of his ears turn pink, and began to stammer in denial.

“What- N-no, we’re friends, we’re definitely not-”

“Jon, it's alright, I'm not mad. I'm pretty glad, by the way.”

The boy stopped babbling, softening his expression. “How did you know it?”

“I'm a detective, kiddo and I know when something's going on with my little brother.” Dick smiled, causing Jonathan to chuckle, but it only took a second for the moment to disappear, with the cop crossing his arms and showing his serious side. “I love my brother, Jonathan. And I always wanted him to find a partner who would treat him with the proper respect and affection he deserved.” He glared at the poor guy, clearly seeing him gulp and clench his jaw. “Can I trust you to do that?” Dick reasied an eyebrow.

Jonathan elevated his chin slightly, showing confidence, and nodded solemnly.

“Of course, I love and respect Damian and I will do everything in my power to make him happy and protect him.”

Dick nodded, with his usual smile returning to his face, inviting Jonathan in. “You better be, Kent.” He whispered lethally despite his kind attitude. “And if I find out you're not actually studying with my brother in his room, you'll have to deal with me.”

Dick blinked. He was sure Jon understood the 'keep your hands off my brother's pants and you'll live' message from the way the boy flinched fearfully as he hugged Damian when the this one came forward to greet his boyfriend.

Jason was in the mansion's library, used to being alone there, save for Tim's occasional vague interruptions, checking out and returning books with cups of coffee in tow. It wasn't unusual for Damian to join him on reading evenings either; in fact, it was already customary for them to sit and read together on Friday afternoons without fail.

But that one was the exception. When Damian didn't show up, and instead, Jason heard laughter coming from the hallways. There, he caught two teenagers in the living room, curled up on one of the couches, laughing. It didn't take a genius to see there was something going on between those two, from Damian's smiles, the lovely look on Jon's face, and the closeness between them—not to mention that Damian allowed that closeness, even caresses and hugs.

As soon as the little Wayne got up from the couch to go to the bathroom, Jason slipped into the room, slumping down on the armchair opposite Jonathan and adopting a serious, penetrating look, making the boy flinch and forcing him to sit up straighter.

“You must be Jason, I mean, Mr. Todd.” Jon stuttered for a second before forcing himself to smile and adjust his glasses.

“Indeed, kid.” Jason nodded nonchalantly. “Sorry, what was your name?”

“Jonathan Kent.”

“‘Kay, Johnny, pay close attention because I'll only say it once.” Jason leaned forward, his gaze turning even more sinister than it already was. “You hurt my brother and I'll put you in the ground.” Todd snarled, pleased when he saw Jon's face turn pale. Then smiled as if nothing had happened and walked away.

Jason didn't consider himself an overprotective brother—at least not on Dick's level. God help the poor soul who dared to mess with his little brothers because if Dick found out, someone better start planning a funeral—but he cared about his family, and had to make sure that whoever would be with his baby brother knew the consequences if they ever crossed the line with him.

When Damian returned, he found Jon glued to the back of the couch, as if he wanted to hide inside it.

“Are okay?” Damian asked, getting a vague nod from a frightened and absent Jonathan.

Nothing was better than coffee, with double chocolate, whipped cream, sprinkles, cinnamon, and triple the caffeine. Tim knew how he liked it, and no other coffee shop made it better than the one on East Broadway Street.

But as he ordered his drink, he thought he saw a familiar face at the tables in the back. Then peek on a black trench coat, green eyes and a spiky hairstyle that he would recognize anywhere.

The quesstion was: What was the little Gremlin doing here? Damian did not frequent coffee shops.

Tim was even more surprised when a newcomer took the chair across from Damian, and the boy wasn't hit. Instead, Damian smiled at him. A dazzling, genuine smile Tim had never seen from him before.

'So this is what Damian's face looked like without the frown.'

It didn't take long to figure out that the guy was Jonathan Kent. And if a person was willing to travel from Metropolis to Gotham, the crime-ridden and gloomy city, he was a very good friend indeed.

Tim's eyes watched intently as Jon's hand rested on Damian's on the table, their fingers gently intertwined.

'Oh...OH! Holy Shit!' He almost spilled his precious coffee.

Now he understood the situation. Kent was more than a friend, wasn't he?

A tiny smile formed on Tim's lips as he sips his coffee. Seeing Damian with Jon reminded him of his first dates with Bernard Dowd. He knew the warmth and happiness his brother must have felt holding hands with his boyfriend. He was truly happy for him, but at the same time, felt something he'd never felt before—or rather, something he thought he'd never felt for Damian.

He felt an instinct, a protective one, as if he truly cared about Damian.

And so it was, no matter how hard it was for Timmy to admit it. Because Damian was his brother, and he loved him. In his way.

And he wasn't spying, not at all, he simply decided that he would drink his coffee slowly and then order another and another, until he felt like leaving, which coincidentally would be when the date ended.

He only took care of his brother. As much as he'd like to deny it. Again.

“You two look good together.” Tim murmured to Jon from his place at the bar a few meters from their table, taking advantage of the fact that Damian went to order another coffee. “I'm Tim, Damian's brother.”

“I know, I saw you a few times at the mansion.” Jon nodded back with a nervous smile. Tim assumed he'd already gotten the others freindly welcome.

“Calm down, I'm not like Jason or Dick.” Tim laughed when Jon sighed in relief. “Just treat the brat well and we won't have any problems.” He said in the calmest tone he could, but his gaze darkened a little.

“Sure, I give you my word.”

“Good.” Tim smiled again.

Timothy ordered another coffee and a brownie. With millions of viruses and codes already in mind to hack Jon's accounts, investigate him, and ruin his life if he dared to harm the Gremlin. Didn't need to say it. Why reveal his magnificent plans to the enemy? He simply smiled maliciously as he watched the date was going. He was tempted to take a photo as a means of future blackmail, but the kinder side of him decided against it. He suspected he'd have other opportunities in the future.

Chapter Text

The afternoon in Metropolis was warm, the setting sun filtering orange and gold hues through the balcony of Jon's apartment, painting the living room with an aura of peace and beauty.

Their cell phones were abandoned somewhere in the kitchen or another corner of the apartment, their backpacks were thrown in the hallway, and their books and math exercises were forgotten on the table. The only thing that mattered to Damian and Jon was that their lips never lost contact, never separating even an inch. Jon didn't even notice that Damian had left his spot on the couch to sit on his lap, but he wasn't going to complain. He welcomed him gladly, caressing Damian's hips over the sweatpants—which already had their own place in Jon's closet, alongside a few other items Damian accidentally left behind on purpose.

Damian's hands ran down the back of Jon's neck, gasping as he felt the other boy's hands move down and squeeze his ass.

Their shirts were scattered somewhere in the living room. Damian ran his hands over the shoulder blades of Jon's slightly toned back, while Jon ran his own hands down Damian's lower back, playing with the elastic of the pants and beginning to ease them down the green-eyed young man's hips.

Damian smiled at the corner of Jon's lips and also began unbuttoning the taller one's jeans. The clothes were clumsily thrown to the floor before Damian's back hit the couch and pinned down by Jon, his hands traveling from the young Wayne's chest, his ribs, his abdomen, feeling his abs. The lips attacked his soft neck, at first with short kisses until they became a pressure of wet lips that would leave marks that Damian would have to hide very well from Dick if he didn't want to be confined for life in the mansion and Jon castrated.

By this point they were both hard and their hips were beginning to move in search of friction, grunting and sighing against each other's mouths as they rubbed their boxer-clad cocks against each other, with the occasional suggestive caress against the already damp fabric.

Jon slipped a hand into Damian's underwear, massaging his member, feeling him twitch at the touch before sighing against Jon's ear.

“You like that?” Jon graoned and Damian gasped in response as Kent grabbed the waistband of the boxers to begin pulling them down, pausing to look at his lover closely.

“Can I take them off?”

Damian nodded, his lips parted and sighing, a little nervous. It wasn't the first time they'd masturbated together, but the fact that someone else saw him naked made him feel vulnerable, which is why he was grateful that Jon always asked before removing his underwear.

He shifted nervously as the slightly cool air blew against his erection. Jonathan caressed his cheek soothingly before removing his own boxers and resuming his touch, taking Damian's dick in his hands and stroking it from tip to base.

Damian's hips bucked in time with his boyfriend's firm pumping on his cock, pleasure twisting through his body as he felt the first wet traces of pre-cum drip out.

“Jon…Jona-” A moan emerged from his throat as he felt his penis enveloped in a sweltering, wet heat he'd never experienced before, throbbing with pleasure. Looking down, he forced himself to breathe deeply, Jon licking the tip of his erection, his blue eyes looking directly into the green of his.

“Want me to stop?”

Damian almost laughed in disbelief.

“Don’t.” He practically begged. “I like it.” He shuddered hard, lifting his hips as Jon's tongue lick from the tip to the glans before taking it completely in his mouth, while the pale hands caressed the inside of the shorter one's thighs and massaged his testicles, making Damian moan, separating his legs further, so Jon sucked his cock completely.

Damian leaned his head back, opting to grip the fabric of the couch in an attempt to maintain his composure as the pace increased. His toes curled and twitched. He'd never gotten a blowjob before. And had no complaints. It was incredible.

“Jon…” Young Wayne was reaching his limit and pushed at his boyfriend's black curls, causing him to look up at him. The blue-eyed man blinked at the jade-like gaze clouded with lust. “Let’s go to bed.” Damian whispered. Jon could have sworn he was going to cum right then and there.

Said and done. Jon quickly carried Damian to his bedroom where he urgently placed him on the bed. There he was greeted by Damian's soft lips as he groped for the lubricant from the drawer in the nightstand. He'd wanted to do it with Damian for a while. Ever since they'd started touching each other alone in the apartment and cuddling in bed, but he faced with the inevitable question of 'What the fuck is sex like between two guys?'

It took many hours of gay porn and internet browsing but now he was ready and Damian seemed aware of the situation as he left his entrance exposed to be prepared while Jon joined their lips again, this time playing with his tongue which vibrated with Damian's muffled moan as he inserted the third finger. Jonathan's fingers disappeared up to the knuckles inside Damian, thrusting in and out in a steady rhythm until the shorter boy moaned loudly:

“Jon…please…do it.” He ordered in a gasp, more than ready, drawing a smile from Jon.

Jon carefully inserted the tip, sucking on Damian's collarbone with the other boy circling his neck. The heat assaulted his senses as soon as he was completely inside Damian.

“Dami…” He moaned, closing his eyes in ecstasy, he'd never experienced anything like this heat that squeezed his cock in a way that drove him wild. He buried his head against Damian's shoulder, feeling the shorter man wrap his legs around his waist, bringing them even closer together. Jon was definitely trying his best not to give in to the urge to move his hips until Damian signaled him to.

Once he gave him permission, Jonathan's hips moved in a gentle rocking motion, long, deep thrusts with the sound of his own and Damian's gasps and moans in the background.

“Faster.” Damian groaned against his ear, digging his nails into Jon's back.

The thrusts increased in intensity. Jon's hand rested on the edge of the bed and the other on Damian's waist, with one of his boyfriend's legs raised so Jon could penetrate him more deeply.

There was a moment when Jon found himself rolling around on the bed, letting Damian take control, holding his hips as the shorter one moved up and down, penetrating himself as he moaned. Sweat ran down his tanned skin, across his toned chest and abdomen. And his hair, always combed and shiny, now fell over his forehead. His jade-color eyes stared at Jon, shining in the faint sunlight that filtered through the small window into the room.

“You’re beautiful.” Jonathan gasped breathlessly, not knowing if Damian could hear him, but it didn't matter. He loved Damian. Really. This wasn't just about sex or kisses, it was about Damian. His whole being, his personality, his mannerisms. This boy had completely captivated him.

The orgasm hit them both in a wave of pleasure and heat. Damian squeezed Jon's chest as he came, the taller one watching his eyes close before Damian collapsed against him. There he was welcomed with a gentle hug, Jon brushing the sweaty strands from his forehead.

“I love you so much, Dami.” Jon kissed his forehead, feeling the other boy moving to look at him with a twinkle in his green eyes before smiling tenderly.

“Love you too, Johnny boy.” Damian snuggled up against Jon's chest as this one pulled the sheet up to cover them both.

For the next few days, Jon smiled sweetly every time he saw Damian. He was truly head over heels in love with him and took every opportunity to kiss him: in the apartment, in the shower, in his room, at the movies. Even managed to steal a couple of kisses in the school hallways, making Damian blush.

But that there would be no problems because of it was too much to ask.

The usual noise from the men's changing rooms was always murmurs or yells, conversations about girls, teasing, joking, that sort of thing. Damian never paid any attention to it and tried to dress up quietly and quickly.

But that day, he noticed a heavy aura in the locker room as soon as he walked in. The stares were fixed on him, and they weren't the ones he usually received, like when he was singled out as the Daddy's rich kid, the arrogant idiot, or the smart guy. No, these were different.

Damian tried to ignore them as he headed to his locker where he kept his running shoes. Then his blood ran cold.

‘Faggot’

‘Sissy’

‘Freak’

‘Cocksucker’

‘Slut’

It was written all over his locker.

Slumped his backpack and hit the locker. Then, he heard laughter in the corner of the room.

“Too soon to come out, Wayne?” He recognized that blond-haired idiot as Patrick Johnson, the boy who sat a few spaces away from him and Jon in class. He's certainly not very bright. “Gotham's rich kid is a faggot.” He sneered, looking at Damian with disdain and disgust.

“Should have guessed it.” More murmurs were heard.

“I bet you let anyone with a big cock fuck you.”

Damian took a deep breath, trying to contain his anger.

“And Kent...”

Damian's eyes went wide open.

‘Don't you dare, asshole...’ He thought.

“He's a slut, too?”

That’s it. Damian shoved Patrick hard, slamming him straight into the opposite lockers, taking with him other guys who had joined the revolt.

“How dare you touch me, you fucking faggot!” Patrick swung at Damian, landing a punch square in his face, with the rest of the students standing around watching the fight. Damian returned a kick that sent him crashing into the benches next to the showers, but the blond quickly recovered and counterattacked.

By the time some students notified the teachers, Damian was already on top of Patrick, beating him mercilessly while the boy pulled his hair and scratched to get him off.

“Wayne, Johnson, stop right now!”

They managed to separate the boys, marching them down the hall to the principal's office as if they were some kind of criminals, with everyone's eyes on their battered faces and disheveled clothes.

Damian heard Jon call his name before enter into the principal's office and take a seat, while Patrick was on to the infirmary. That broken nose wouldn't heal on its own.

He smiled at the memory of the deviated septum when he hit Patrick.

“You think this is funny?” The principal glared at him. “Assaulting your classmate in this way merits expulsion.”

Damian didn't care if he was expelled, as long as Johnson had learned not to mess with Jon.

“It's clear that Damian didn't start this.” Fortunately, he had the coach on his side, who had seen the state of his locker and knew quite well how big-mouthed Patrick could be.

The conversation took off from there. Honestly, Damian didn't know what irritated him more. Patrick sticking his nose where it didn't belong, or being forced to accept that the insinuation that he was gay must be a mistake and a bad joke, because it was impossible for someone like him to like boys. That conclusion they reached.

The name Wayne and its reputation as a womanizer spoke for him, and that bothered him a lot.

What did it matter if he liked boys or girls or whatever? His last name didn't define that, but he had to keep quiet and play the victim. The poor boy that was called a faggot, even though he was clearly straight.

He groaned in frustration inside. But at least he had managed not to get expelled.

Once he left the office, the students practically swarmed around him in curiosity. He ignored them until got to the only one he cared about.

“Damian! Are you alright? What happened?” Jon approached him, caressing the bruise below his right eye, but pulled his hand away when he noticed the students staring at them and beginning to whisper among themselves with curious, contemptuous glances.

'Fuck what people say.'

Damian pulled Jon by the shirt and pressed their lips together, feeling Jonathan freeze, everyone's eyes on them. Some booed and shouted obscene and nasty things, and others—mostly girls—whistled and screamed excitedly.

“You- B-But you said…not here.” Jon stammered, his face flushed.

“I don't care anymore. From now on you can kiss me whenever and wherever you want.” Damian whispered, winking flirtatiously at the blue-eyed young man. Though that flirtatiousness faded when he remembered the small detail that he was suspended for the next week and Jonathan wouldn't be happy with that.

The first signs of sunset were appearing in the Gotham sky. The youngest member of the family was getting ready to go for a run, but this time he was accompanied by his second-oldest brother, who decided to join him when they met each other in the hallway, saying he'd trade it for his gym routine. This surprised Damian, but not as much as Jason was when his younger brother didn't reject his company.

Two pairs of sport sneakers thudded against the earthy ground of the forest surrounding the mansion. The two brothers ran side by side, looking at each other with a mischievous smile, sensing that one of them was about to overtake the other.

When Damian began to gain more of an advantage over Jason, he pushed the younger, causing Damian to trip, giving the older man the lead. Damian pushed him back until they were back on par.

“Tt. Wanna see what real running is like?”

The younger boy took a steep route, running uphill through the trees with Jason keeping pace. He managed to briefly overtake with his strong, toned legs, but after a few minutes, the summit took its toll, and his pace slowed, with Damian overtook him.

“So slow.” Damian mocked.

Jason snorted and tried to catch up with the smug brat, though he felt he'd trip over a rock or branch along the way sooner or later.

The brat might know how to run on unstable ground, but he wanted to see how good he was at lifting the 330 pounds Jason lifted every day at the gym.

His legs burned like a match had been placed under his skin. His throat was terribly dry. Jason couldn't help coughing and sighing in exhaustion as he reached his little brother, who was waiting for him sitting on a log.

“Too much for you, old man?” Damian smirked, seeing Jason open his water bottle in desperation.

“Let me recover and I'll give you a rematch, brat.”

“Tt.”

After an hour, they returned to the mansion, took a shower, and met again in the kitchen. Damian drank a glass of fresh apple juice with Jason sneaking over to one of the higher cabinets in the kitchen.

Damian rolled his eyes, knowing knowing that Jason had a bottle of vodka in his possession. “If you do something stupid while drunk, I won't take responsibility and I'll tell Richard.”

Jason let out a bitter laugh, pouring the drink into a small glass to the brim. He downed it in one gulp, and poured himself another before sitting next to Damian.

“How are things going with that Kent boy?” Jason interrupted the comfortable silence between them, earning a curious look from Damian. “Does he treat you well?”

“You care about me?” Damian smiled amusedly, clearly intending to annoy.

Jason shrugged. “Believe it or not, I do.”

All traces of mockery disappeared from Damian's face, now looking at his older brother in bewilderment. Normally, it was Dick who said such things, but he remembered that Jason could be the most emotional of them all.

“I mean, you’re my baby brother.” He said the last bit, looking away before clearing his throat and absentmindedly taking an apple from the fruit bowl in front of him. “So there are no problems with Kent?” He focused on Damian, attentive to his response.

“Everything's fine.” Damian nodded. Jason couldn't see a trace of discomfort or lies in the younger boy's eyes, so he seemed pleased, and the subtle glint of menace fading from his own eyes.

“You two had sex, didn't you?” Jason blurted out, and Damian nearly choked on his juice at that statement, more than a question, with his brother smiling playfully and patting his shoulder.

Surprisingly, contrary to what he thought, Jason didn't feel like killing Kent for it. Damian wasn't a child anymore, and he was sure the little demon would take care of it himself if Jon crossed the line with him during intimate moments.

Though the friendly warning/threat still stood.

“Remember, better use condom.” Jason ruffled Damian's hair, oblivious to his poor brother's embarrassment.

Chapter Text

Damian tried to ignore the total chaos that the school was, but it was becoming really impossible with some girls screaming like crazy drama queens, students jumping and dancing happily through the hallway, and some boys cheering like gorillas.

“Is today the day to go crazy at school?” Damian asked Jon, leaning against the lockers watching the boy next to them stick his head in his locker and cry. “Any random and strange Metropolis custom perhaps?”

Jon smiled fondly. “Only if you think it's weird that there's a prom at the end of the school year.”

“A prom?” Damian raised an eyebrow before making a guttural sound of boredom and annoyance, walking into the classroom with Jon at his side.

“You never had one your first year in Gotham?”

“Yeah and I'm not a big fan, they're stupid and unnecessary.”

“Does that mean you don't want to go?” Jon frowned and bit his lip in embarrassment.

“Tt. I have better things to do than be at a boring dance, surrounded by idiots and unbearable-corny music.” Damian looked at Jon ironically, suddenly with no desire to continue cursing that prom as he saw how the taller boy began to move his hands restlessly, his blue eyes lowered.

“What is it?”

“Well, I…the prom is on Friday and I was planning to invite you.” Damian's eyes widened, the air leaving his lungs, and feeling like a complete asshole, wanting to erase the last five minutes of conversation so he could take back everything he'd said.

“Really?” He sounded more serious than he would have liked, Jon probably thought the idea completely disgusted him.

“Yeah, it's my first prom with you and...I don't know, I thought we could have a good time.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “B-but I understand that you don't feel comfortable at an event like this, in fact, that's why I haven't mentioned it.”

“But you want to go.” Damian muttered more as a statement, trying his best to keep his brow from furrowing even an inch, he wanted to express anything but anger or disgust at that moment.

Jon swallowed but nodded slowly. “I would love to dance with you.” He whispered.

Damian's lips formed a straight line as if processing every word Jon said.He and proms didn't get along at all. Most of the time, he was left with nothing to do besides run away from the girls who practically hounded him to be their date, obviously seeing nothing but the last name Wayne and the money. But to be honest, he wouldn't mind at all if his date was Jon, he already felt butterflies in his stomach when Jonathan mentioned he wanted to dance with him.

“Alright.”

“Eh?” Jon look at him confused.

“We're going to the prom.”

“Really? But you just said you hate them.” Jon squawked, eyes wide open.

“Maybe it was because I didn't have you.” He grinned at Jon. “And I would also love to dance with you.”

Jon jumped from his chair to Damian's to hug him and kiss him effusively, almost making them both fall to the floor, with some glances falling on them, but of course they ignored them.

“Then I'll make it official.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about now? I already said we would go together.”

Jon's smile widened as he took Damian's hands in his own, gently caressing the knuckles. “Damian Wayne.Would you go to the dance with me?”

Damian's face was really red now. He would have covered it if Jon hadn't had his hands full.

“Yes.” He whispered, looking away.

“What? I didn’t listen to you.” Jon smiled mischievously, taking Damian by the chin to make him look at him.

“I said yes, I will go with you!” He yelled at sending Jon back to his own seat and sulking, with the taller young man laughing and ruffling his hair.

At noon the doorbell rang and Jon ran to open the door, welcoming the woman at the entrance with a strong hug.

“Mom!”

“I got your message.” Lois tried to hold back her laughter at her son's cell phone message describing a prom as a major emergency for which he needed his mother.

“It's not funny, mom. I really need your help!” Jon was pulling at his curls with a look of extreme despair.

“Easy, everything's gonna be alright.” The reporter entered the apartment, leaving her handbag on the sofa. “You're going with Damian, right?” She grinned.

Lois was the only one in the family who knew about Damian's existence, and although she admitted to being somewhat surprised by the breakup with Kathy, she seemed really pleased with Jon's new relationship, assuring him of her full support, despite her son's insecurities when he told her about it on the phone. Now Lois enjoyed commenting on Jonathan's love life, making him blush.

They hadn't told Clark yet, but Lois was sure he'd support his son, too. Jonathan hoped he wouldn't give his father a heart attack when he discovered his son had ended up dating the youngest member of one of the richest families in the country. He'd find out later, Clark surely would ask Jon to invite Damian over for dinner so he could meet the young Wayne.

“You still remember when I taught you to dance slow songs, right?”

“How to forget it.” Jon smiled nervously, remembering his old robotic beginner's steps and the times he accidentally stepped on his mother's toes during lessons when he was 10. Still, Lois had him demonstrate, correcting small details in his posture and balance.

“Alright, not bad.” Lois was already on her way to Jon's bedroom, carrying a suit bag that Jon surprisingly didn't notice when she entered. “Come and try this out.” She ordered, handing over a black suit. And just as Jon had suspected, it was his older brother Konner's old suit.

“Mom, this looks horrible on me.” Jon sighed from inside the bathroom.

“You know that if you don't leave the bathroom I can't give my opinion.” Lois hummed.

The doorknob turned slowly and then a dapper looking Jonathan Kent appeared in a dark blue suit, plus the white shirt and a blue bow tie.

“Does it look bad?”

“Of course not. It suits you perfectly.” Lois straightened his bow tie and gave her son a thumbs-up, pleased that the suit didn't require any needle and thread in case it was too big for him.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lois waged war with her son's unruly hair, using combs and styling creams, but no matter what she did, the curls always returned to their previous unruly state. And Jon absolutely refused to use gel.

So the curls won.

As a final preparation, she sprayed Jon with Clark's best lotion, always used on special occasions, and boy, this was one.

Damian was finishing fitting his custom-made black suit in front of his full-length mirror in his bedroom, with a dark green shirt and a plain tie the same color as the suit.

They always told him he was the spitting image of his father, and now he truly believed it, gritting his teeth and frowning as he struggled with the infernal knot of his tie. Damian was on the verge of throwing the thing through the air in fury, just as he had seen his father do so many times.

“Need help?” Dick peeked his head around the open door of the room before going straight to his younger brother and taking the problematic tie in his hands, suspecting that Damian was already eager to incinerate it. Dick expertly knotted the tie with a loving smile. “You look pretty handsome, Little D.” Richard murmured, adjusting the shirt collar.

“Thank you.” Damian whispered with a small smile, giving his hair a final comb. The sun was beginning to set and the time to leave was near.

“Young Master Damian.” Alfred knocked on the door before entering, holding a small black velvet box. A golden 'W' was engraved in the center. “I got something for you.”

Both Damian and Dick looked curiously at the box, always kept inside Bruce's bedroom, out of everyone's reach. The boys were about to ask what was inside when the butler opened it. Damian was amazed to see the pure gold cufflinks engraved with his last name initial.

“Master Bruce wanted to give them to you in person, for you to use tonight, after all, it is a special occasion.”

Alfred helped place the cufflinks. Damian's green eyes still dazzled by his family heirlooms. He knew those cufflinks had belonged to Thomas Wayne himself, and had worn them in his wedding with Martha Wayne. Bruce had also worn them to his first gala in his youth, forging his reputation as a young entrepreneur.

Then Alfred revealed something even more shocking.

“Your father also used them on the first date with Miss Al Ghul, at the opening of Wayne Tower.”

Even Dick opened his eyes comically.

“Really?” Damian asked, his eyes wide and shining. Alfred nodded, unable to help but smile, assimilating the image to that of a small child full of wonder when his grandfather tells him a story.

“Have a wonderful evening with Young Kent.”

“Thank you Alfred.”

“Don't drinki alcohol.” The old man warned with an arched eyebrow.”

“I promise.” Damian grinned.

Jon walked into the school gym already feeling hellishly hot in his suit jacket and shirt, but he suspected it was more nerves than anything else.

As he went to get some fruit punch, he saw a girl in a magenta dress a few feet away, with her blond hair loose and a small flowered comb. Kathy saw him too, holding her glass of punch halfway to her lips. They stared at each other like cats on the prowl. Or rather, Kathy looked like one. Jon looked more like a startled deer.

“You look pretty.” Jon was the first to speak, before quickly adding. “I say this only as a compliment, with no other intention.” He raised his hands innocently.

“Thanks.” Kathy nodded in gratitude, taking a sip of punch. Their relationship hadn't been the same since that day. She always backed away as soon as she saw Jon in the school halls next to Damian or any other place. This was the biggest step forward in months.

“You look good, too.” She returned the compliment, looking around. “I suppose you're coming with Damian.”

“Yep, he shouldn't be long in arriving.”

Kathy nodded again una vez más before wishing Jon a nice night with the intention of leaving but Jonathan called her.

“Kathy, I know what I did that night-”

“Jonathan, please, It's in the past, we don't have to keep talking about it.” Kathy sighed. “Better enjoy the night with your boyfriend.” Her tone was tired but without a trace of resentment as on that day.

“Is there any chance we can be friends again?” Straight to the point. “I miss my best friend, that fearless one I met one summer in Smallville.”

Kathy bit her lip. “Maybe.” That was her only response before leaving.

Jon sighed, finishing pouring his glass of punch when someone tapped him on the shoulder and made him turn around.

“Blue is your color, no doubt.” Damian scanned him up with a smile.

“Dami…” Jonathan was completely mesmerized, almost drooling, staring at the shorter man from head to toe. “You look really beautiful.” Jon sighed.

“Just like you, Johnny boy.” Damian smirked, accepting the glass of punch that Jon offered him.

Everything was going swimmingly. The couples photo would have been Jon's favorite part—where he didn't miss the opportunity to hug Damian and kiss him on the cheek mid-shot—but then he remembered the dance floor as the lights dimmed slightly and a slow song played over the speakers.

“Shall we dance?” Jon stood up from his seat at one of the tables and offered his hand to Damian.

“Of course.” Damian grinned, taking Jon's hand straight to the dance floor.

🎶 ’I don't know what's going on.’ 🎶

🎶 ’Where you came from and why it took so long.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘All I know is that I feel it.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Like it's the realest thing, I mean it.’ 🎶

They settled between the couples present, one of their hands intertwined. Jon was somewhat nervous, undecided whether to place his other hand on Damian's waist so that the shorter man would be encouraged to hold Jon's shoulder, or whether to switch places and let Damian hold his waist.

Damian chuckled, shaking his head slightly, guiding Jon's hand to his waist and placing his own on the taller man's shoulder, putting an end to the dilemma. And he began to sway back and forth to the music.

🎶 ‘Something changed when I saw you.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Oh my eyes can't lie.’ 🎶

Then Damian Jon's penetrating gaze.

“What?”

“Have I already told you how much I love your eyes?” Jon muttered. “My favorite color might be green now.”

Damian felt heat rise to his cheeks as his smile grew wider.

“And have I already told you that I love your blue ones?”

🎶 ‘You said, “they're so damn blue”.’ 🎶

Damian put his arm around Jon's neck, bringing them even closer and inviting Jon to hug him around the waist as they danced. They felt the gazes of the couples around them. Some students glared at them with hatred and disgust, but none of both boys paid attention.

🎶 ‘And I love how you're so forward.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Is it too soon to say I'm falling?’ 🎶

“Faggots.”

“Should be ashamed of yourself!”

“This is not the place to do such dirty-gay things.”

There were murmurs and protests that disappeared as soon as Damian returned their defiant gaze with an aura of superiority.

There were also flirtatious compliments and whistles.

“So cute!”

“I envy you, Kent!”

Both pretended not to hear anything that was being discussed around them, only the music.

🎶 ‘So maybe.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Maybe we were always meant to meet.’🎶

🎶 ‘Like this was all our destiny.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Like you already know.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Your heart will never be broken by me.’ 🎶

“I want to be with you my whole life.” Jonathan whispered, smiling before bringing their foreheads together. Damian's gaze softened. Even crystallized.

🎶 ‘So is it crazy.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘For you to tell your friends to go on home?’ 🎶

Damian stood on tiptoe, his breath fanning against Jon's face, their noses touching. Both closing his eyes.

🎶 ‘So we can be here all alone.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Fall in love tonight.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘And spend the rest of our lives as one.’ 🎶

Their lips barely touched when they heard that scream that brought them back to the real world.

“Hey, both of you! Separate now!”

They opened their eyes, turning to look at Mr. Mitchell, one of the teachers in charge of the lab, even though the older man had never spoken to them before in his entire school year. But now he was approaching both boys menacingly.

“Tt. No way.” Damian snarled, rolling his eyes but not moving away from Jon at all, who sighed in frustration.

“You can’t do that!” Mr. Mitchell yelled. A vein even popped out on the side of his forehead, looking like it was about to burst.

“Why not?” Damian challenged, pressing himself even closer to Jonathan's body. Kent would have stopped him, but he really didn't want to. He was beyond fed up with his time with Damian being ruined, and wanted a damn explanation as to why the hell he couldn't kiss his boyfriend.

“You two make everyone uncomfortable.” The old man pointed around. Now all the couples had stopped dancing and were watching the discussion between the boys and the teacher.

Jon exchanged glances with Damian, who raised an eyebrow before looking coldly at Mr. Mitchell. Jon knew what Damian meant at that moment: ‘Tt. I don’t give a fuck if you or others are uncomfortable, just look the other way. Now get lost, old man.’

“Couples must be made up of a man and a woman.” The professor abruptly separated the two young men. Jon opened his mouth in disbelief, unable to believe it. Damian snorted and rolled his eyes again.

“Don't you dare make those gestures, Wayne! You're standing before an authority figure, and I remind you that you're still at risk of expulsion for your argument from a few weeks ago!”

“Tt.” The boy crossed his arms.

“They're simple rules, guys. You'll decide if you'll face the consequences for breaking them.” He glared specifically at Damian. The man probably already has his expulsion letter ready, waiting in the principal's office, happy to give it to Damian the moment the younger opens his mouth to argue.

Damian and Jon looked at each other with helpless and angry faces, if they couldn't dance together there was no point in staying on the dance floor. They were about to go to their table but a girl appeared from the crowd and took Damian's hand.

“Hey, pretty Wayne, now that you're available, dance with me!”

Damian's eyes flew open in fury, but before he could break free from the girl whose voice was incredibly shrill and irritating, she dragged him, nearly tearing his arm off, back onto the dance floor. Damian could only glimped at Jon pitifully from a distance as the girl practically clung to his neck.

Every time Damian tried to get out of her grip, the girl held him tight and stuck to him, with her intense cherry scent that matched her red dress very well, beginning to make Damian nauseous.

“Come on, handsome, dance with me.” The cherry-girl made a pout.

“No, thanks.” Damian snorted coldly, trying to leave again. And failing again.

“Why not? Do you really only like boys?” She whined.

“That's none of your business, so please let me go.” He growled.

“C’mon, Wayne, you sure you don't like girls? Not even a little bit?”

The cherry-girl stood on her tiptoes and leaned on Damian's shoulders to get close to his face, her lips inches from his.

Damian's patience ran out. He had tried to be nice.

“Get away from me!” He put his hand over the girl's mouth and pushed her off him, walking out of there with firm steps, towards the table where Jon was waiting for him.

“Let's get out of here, Jon.” Damain offered his hand, which the taller one took without hesitation.

“Where are we going?”

“Far from this garbage.”

They ran across the campus in the dark until they reached the other side of the building, onto the roof. Their hiding. They lay on the floor, gazing at the stars, until a slow, pleasant melody came from Jon's cell phone. With a smile, this one stood, offering Damian his hand.

“We have a pending dance.”

Wayne took his hand and was helped to get on his feet. Wrapped his arms around Jon's neck again. The blue-eyed one wrapped his arms around his waist.

🎶 ‘So maybe.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Maybe we were always meant to meet.’ 🎶

🎶 ‘Like this was all our destiny.’ 🎶

Jonathan seemed to get extremly serious for a moment and hugged Damian protectively, tightening his grip on his waist, pulling the shorter one closer to his chest. Damian could hear his heartbeat, calm and clear.

“Nothing and no one will make me stop loving you, ever, Damian.”

A tear rolled down Damian's cheek. He let go of Jon's neck and cupped his face, bringing it to his lips and kissing him with desire, expressing everything he felt right now: love, euphoria, joy, passion. So many things he'd felt tonight that he couldn't put into words alone.

“I love you.” Damian whispered, looking into Jon's eyes, caressing his cheek, and finally snuggling into his arms and continuing to sway to the music. A promise had been made that night, with the stars as witnesses, one that would outlast everything and everyone, until the end of time. They were both aware that they would face difficulties or incidents similar to the one they had tonight, but they weren't afraid. Yes, they would surely be hurt, sad, bitter, or angry, but they would have each other's shoulders to cry on, each other's hands to get themselves up, and the unconditional love to keep going.