
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11311329.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Titans_(Comics), Teen_Titans_(Animated_Series), DC_Rebirth_-_Fandom,
      Batman_-_All_Media_Types, Batman_(Comics), Superman_-_All_Media_Types,
      Superman_(Comics), Super_Sons_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Jonathan_Kent/Damian_Wayne
  Character:
      Jonathan_Kent, Damian_Wayne, Bruce_Wayne, Clark_Kent, Lois_Lane, Garfield
      Logan, Beast_Boy, Starfire, Raven, Jaime_Reyes, Blue_Beetle_-_Character,
      Kid_Flash, Wally_West, Aqualad, Jackson_Hyde, Robin, Slade_Wilson_
      (briefly)
  Additional Tags:
      Teenagers, Teen_Titans_-_Freeform, These_homos, Damijon_-_Freeform,
      Jondami, i_love_them, MY_GAYS
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-26 Updated: 2017-09-14 Chapters: 24/? Words: 78891
****** Light as a Feather ******
by LoganSW96
Summary
     Years in the future, when the Super Sons have grown into teens, Jon
     is invited to join the Teen Titans. However, things go awry when
     feelings get in the way of their true purpose to protect the public,
     as well as the people they care about.
Notes
     Hello guys! So I don't know if any of my old readers are still
     hanging around, but I'm alive! I went through a really long period of
     not writing, but I'm trying to pick it back up again. My old stories
     have been abandoned for far too long - and I suspect they'll stay
     that way - but I've recently been introduced to the AMAZINGNESS that
     is Super Sons, so I decided I'd give these guys some love. I hope you
     all enjoy!
***** Chapter 1 *****
Jon had grown oddly accustomed to Gotham rooftops.
He knew that Batman and co. had lived like this for years now; skulking under
water towers and swinging between buildings with their grappling guns. It’s
only been in the past year or so that Jon has joined them on their escapades;
more specifically, joined Damian on them.
Robin had made quite the name for himself in recent times, mostly working
independent of his mentor and father despite still keeping the Robin mantle. As
far as Jon knew, Batman had no idea that they had been working together. In
fact, he was quite sure that his own father, Superman, didn’t know either.
He suspected that Batman may have known anyway; after all, knowing everything
is kind of his gig.
And this wasn’t something that Jon was overly fond of, either, but he had to
get his kicks in where he could; when Jon got to high school, Clark had begun
insisting that he focus more on his school and less on fighting crime. Jon had
tried to make him strike a balance, but he wasn’t having any of it.
Reluctantly, Jon had to hang up his cape as Superboy; at least until he
graduated.
So instead, Jon took regular trips to visit Damian in Gotham City. He couldn’t
do everything he wanted to do; fly, use heat vision, all that stuff, but he
still had many of his powers he could use more discretely. He knew Damian
didn’t need his help, he’d been doing just fine on his own as a vigilante. But
even if he didn’t say it, Jon knew that Damian appreciated his company, and
backup never hurt either.
Despite all that, Jon really hated wearing a mask. It made his face itch.
Speaking of, Damian seemed like he was having a good night. He’d noticed there
were two types of patrols; the kinds with lots of victims, and the kinds with
fewer victims. The difference was pretty substantial; if Damian were stopping
horrible crimes like assaults on women or kidnapped kids, he didn’t have nearly
as much fun. He handled those more seriously, like Batman would expect of him.
However, on nights like tonight, he tried to let himself loose (at least, as
much as Damian can let loose). Nights like tonight had robberies, drunken
brawls, stuff like that, and Damian was eating it up. Jon also enjoyed nights
like these a lot more, because if Damian was happy, it tended to lift the
overall mood pretty quickly.
“Try to keep up, Jon,” Damian teased. Robin had already swung over to the next
building, peering back over his shoulder to goad Jon.
“You’re lucky I can’t fly right now,” Jon barked back, smiling as he jumped the
gap in one bound. Damian muttered something about being a showoff and, with a
smirk, continued on. Jon kept pace from then on, stuck less in his thoughts.
He glanced up at Damian; he’d grown up remarkably fast. He turned 19 last
month, and the older he got, the more he started to look like his father. He
had that same coal black hair and his strong gaze and jawline; the only thing
that Jon could notice as a real, distinguishing feature is Damian’s darker skin
(no doubt the influence of his mother). Other than that, they looked crazy
similar.
Jon’s attention was drawn away by the sound of a mugging an alley over; he
whistled at Damian, their code for when Jon noticed something was up. From what
Jon could gather, it had just started and nobody had been hurt, but they’d
definitely want to step in before things got serious.
The teens made their way over, perched at the edge of the rooftop to look down
on the scene. It’s one they’ve both (especially Damian) seen a million times; a
man with a gun, and a couple at the other end of it. The woman was starting to
reach into her purse to do what the man asked; his arm was shaking. Jon
wondered if it was just stress, or if he was ready to shoot; he decided not to
test it.
“You got this one,” Damian offered. It was surprising for him to take a
backseat on something like this; this was a scene Damian had heard too much
about from his father. Regardless, Jon nodded and leaped from the rooftop.
He couldn’t use a lot of his powers (anything that would connect him to
Superman, anyway), but that didn’t mean he had to act like he didn’t have any.
He dropped like a rock, landing on the pavement and watching it crack under the
pressure. The mugger jumped out of his skin, turning to point the gun at Jon.
“W-Who the fuck are you?” he asked. “You’re not one of the bat’s brats!”
“Nope!” is all Jon said before he rushed forward. Using most of his speed, he
felt the world slow around him as the man started to pull the trigger. Jon put
his hand over the barrel of the gun, and as it went off, backfired and caused
the gun to explode. The man screamed; he hadn’t lost any fingers, but that
definitely didn’t feel good. Still holding the broken weapon, Jon tossed it on
the ground near a dumpster. The couple looked on in something between fear and
awe as Jon picked the man up by the collar of his shirt.
“Robin, how far are we from the police station?” he called up to the rooftop
with a smile. Robin lowered himself from his grappling hook, approaching his
friend.
“Six blocks,” he offered.
“Hmm, yeah that’s too far,” Jon mused aloud. “Alright, we’ll just leave you
here then.”
Damian zip-tied the man’s hands around a pipe; trash pickup was in a few hours,
and he’d be discovered soon enough. While he did that, Jon went to address the
couple who were still standing at the end of the alley.
“You two alright?” Jon asked. He lowered the hood of his jacket, still leaving
his mask in place; the last thing he needed was someone recognizing Superboy in
the middle of Gotham.
“Yes, thank you,” the woman replied shakily. “Who are you?”
“Just trying to help!” Jon grinned, his fingers crossing behind his head.
“Sometimes Robin takes this stuff too seriously, figured I’d help him lighten
up.”
“You coming?” he called, as if on cue. Damian had made his way back onto the
roof. Jon waved back to him, said his quick goodbye to the couple, and leaped
up to join him.
“Dawn will be breaking soon,” Damian noted. “Want to call it a night?”
Jon looked onto the horizon; flashes of pink were starting to cross the sky. He
hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. Jon wasn’t nearly the night owl
that Damian and the others were; hell, he was usually in bed by midnight at the
latest. But he supposed keeping his mind occupied like this had distracted him
from how tired he really was. As these thoughts crossed his mind, he yawned
loudly.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he said. “I’ve still got to fly home in the morning.”
Damian nodded silently. Jon noticed that his small smirk he tended to carry
dropped, but didn’t comment on it. He knew that Damian got lonely in Gotham; he
lived on his own now, and his relationship with Bruce wasn’t exactly the most
fulfilling. They had no real problems, and both had the utmost respect for each
other, but there was only so much someone as closed off as these two could
share with each other. Jon silently took pride that he was able to pry that
oyster shell of an exterior open after all their time together.
Plus with Batman’s other kids scattered all about, the only friends Damian saw
regularly were the Teen Titans, and that was hardly on a regular basis these
days. Jon felt bad about having to leave him; luckily his Junior year of high
school would be over soon, and with the Summer, Jon hoped to spend more time in
Gotham.
The two made their way back towards Damian’s penthouse mostly in silence. It
felt like it always got like this towards the end of Jon’s visits; Damian’s
quiet disappointment, and holding back things he wanted to say but not wanting
to actually let it out. Jon had only recently started picking up on more of his
quirks like that, and he realized that he probably knew Damian better than
anyone else, with the possible exceptions of Bruce and Dick.
They reached Damian’s apartment, and the two jumped onto his exterior patio.
Damian had moved out from Wayne Manor a little less than a year ago, but Bruce
insisted that he still live in nice, private housing. The penthouse of this
apartment building served Damian’s needs well, as he could leave through the
outside and enter the same way to protect his privacy, and still leave down the
elevator during the day. Plus, he had a safe house or two nearby where he could
stash more of his equipment, such as his motorcycle (for when he’s Robin; his
regular one he keeps in the garage) and extra weaponry.
“Your place is seriously so awesome,” Jon mused aloud. Damian didn’t react; Jon
had said it a million times, after all, and he was used to his reaction. Damian
didn’t work, a fact that he and his father often bickered about. But Damian was
more than happy to dedicate his time to training and fighting crime, sometimes
even during the day if necessary (though most of Gothams shadier activities did
take place at night). Damian’s argument was that Bruce had plenty of money, and
that it was more worthwhile for a bit of it to go towards Damian’s rent and
expenses so that Damian can protect more people. Bruce reluctantly agreed,
though not on a permanent basis. Damian and he both knew that at some point he
would need to get a job, most likely with Bruce’s company.
Jon wasn’t used to the life of luxury that Damian did (not that Damian didn’t
have his struggles, of course, but he definitely lived on the finer side on a
day to day basis). Jon’s home was by no means shabby; his mother and father
cared for him very well. But this was so insanely beyond, he wasn’t even sure
to do with himself the first few times he stayed over.
He and Damian both left their shoes on the patio, dirtied and scuffed from
their night’s work. They were both exhausted; the night hadn’t been
particularly challenging compared to other nights on patrol, but no night on
patrol could ever be classified as “easy”.
Jon was the first to peel his mask off his face. Normally, during the day he’d
just do what his dad does, wear glasses so that when he gets into his hero
costume, nobody notices. At first he thought that was ridiculous, but people
were never inclined to think that someone like that was right in front of them.
In fact, to this day, Jon still tries to make a point of wearing glasses (at
least most of the time) so that when he does get to be Superboy again, his
identity is secured.
Damian removed his mask then, the solid white in the eyes giving way to show
his pupils and irises. The usual emerald green that Jon was used to seemed
muted by his exhaustion. Damian wiped a hand over his face, the black makeup on
his eyes smearing because of it. He was ready to crash, and Jon wasn’t far
behind him.
Damian started getting out of his gear while Jon took the first shower, making
a point not to take very long so that Damian could enjoy most of the hot water.
Jon knew that Damian liked long showers, so he hurried through his to give
Damian the rest of it.
When Jon exited, a towel wrapped around his waist, Damian was waiting outside
the bathroom. He’d already shed his gear, which was gathered in a couple of
different places around his apartment, the majority laid out neatly on his
dining room table. He stood there in his underwear, arms folded over his chest
while he waited for Jon to exit. Damian nodded and took Jon’s place.
Jon noticed his own eyes following as Damian passed him, but said nothing. But
he kept that image locked in his mind.
It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen a million times; since staying here, he
wasn’t any stranger to seeing Damian’s body. The two of them looked so
drastically different standing next to each other; Damian was tall and leanly
muscled, whereas Jon had bulked up a bit in the past few years thanks to his
dad’s genetics. Damian’s entire body was covered in scars from years of combat,
the most prominent of which on his stomach and on his back. Jon’s body was
practically pristine, like a fresh piece of paper; not a single scratch or scar
to be found. There were few things to be found to make them look more
different.
Jon gathered his own gear he’d been wearing out on patrol, little more than a
hoodie and a pair of jeans along with his mask. They smelled of sweat, so he
went and threw them into the washing machine. He went ahead and got Damian’s
stuff together, too, at least the parts that could be thrown in a washing
machine. The actual armored parts would need to be washed separately, which
Damian insisted on doing himself. In fact he hated when Jon did his laundry at
all, but Jon insisted on helping out in exchange for his hospitality.
Damian exited the bathroom just as Jon had finished getting dressed. He was in
a similar state to Jon as when he left, only a towel wrapped around his waist.
Jon had since slipped into some sweatpants and a tank that he’d brought with
him from back home. Jon crawled onto the couch, and shoved his hand under his
pillow and laid his head down. Damian, apparently having gotten a second wind,
took a seat next to him. Jon pulled his knees closer to his chest to make room
for him.
“You not going to bed yet?” Jon asked. Damian shook his head, chewing on
something he’d gotten from the kitchen. He’d also gotten dressed, wearing a
pair of gym shorts and nothing else. His hair was still drying, down and in his
face. It was rare to see Damian not entirely put together, which was oddly
relieving for the other.
“I decided that I would rather spend a bit more time with you; I can sleep in a
little while,” Damian said. Jon smiled a little; it was rare for Damian to be
so frank with him. The two had grown extremely close over the years, but Damian
was still withdrawn more often than not. Jon forced himself to sit up; flying
back to Metropolis didn’t take that long, and he could leave later in the day
if he needed to. This trip was only for the weekend, so he had to be sure he
was back home in time to go to bed for school.
The two chatted about nothing in particular. Jon asked how Dick and the others
were doing, and Damian half-heartedly questioned Jon about school.
“What are you thinking about doing for the summer?” Damian asked. Jon could
tell that Damian's fatigue was getting to him, but Jon didn’t feel like
sleeping anymore; he’d rather just sit here with his best friend.
“Don’t know yet,” Jon admitted with a shrug. “School is out in two weeks, and
with nothing else to focus on for the summer, I’m hoping Dad will let me be
Superboy again, at least for a while.”
“You should come with the Titans,” Damian offered, still maintaining that lax
persona he always kept up. “Maybe your father would be more willing to let you
“spread your wings” so to speak if you’re with us.”
Jon mulled it over; it wasn’t a bad offer. He’d considered asking Damian before
if he could tag along with the Teen Titans, but never really had the
opportunity since he always had to focus on school. Then something struck him
from Damian’s offer. “Wait, spread my wings?”
“So to speak.”
“I don’t have wings,” Jon half-chuckled.
“You can fly, though,” Damian shrugged in response.
“So? You’re the Robin here,” he smiled, and Damian rolled his eyes with a small
smirk.
“Fair point.” The two sat in silence for a moment. “Do you miss all this? The
hero-ing, all that?”
The question caught Jon off guard. “Every day,” he admitted. “But we do it
really differently; I fly around in the middle of the day, and at night if
needed. You’re kind of the opposite.”
“Plus I can’t fly,” he added with a small smirk.
“Yeah, also that,” Jon grinned back.
“I don’t think I could ever give it up, you know?” Damian mused aloud. The tone
felt very serious all of a sudden, despite how they’d been joking. “I just kind
of miss working with someone. Father wants me to be able to work alone if
needed, which I can. And we still run into each other on patrols from time to
time, but it’s not really the same.”
“Well luckily you’ve got me on most weekends, and probably over the summer!”
Jon grinned, bumping Damian with his shoulder. Damian cracked a small smile,
but was noticeably less amused than Jon in that moment. “Damian? You okay?”
He perked up a little. “Yeah, sorry, just thinking,” he said. Jon frowned;
Damian seemed even more down than usual before Jon left. “And yeah, I’m really
lucky to have you.”
Jon’s chest tightened a little; he felt Damian being vulnerable, a very rare
circumstance. Suddenly he wanted to reach out and hug him, though he was well
aware that wasn’t Damian’s style. Instead, he just placed a hand on his
shoulder and squeezed lightly, silently offering his support.
They stayed like that for a while, just silently enjoying each other’s company.
It was oddly intimate, just quietly sitting there and soaking in their
situation. Where Jon had grasped his friend’s shoulder, slowly graduated into
rubbing small circles into his back. Damian was only human, after all, and his
body was often sore after nights on patrol. He was quietly grateful as the pair
of them and actually began to doze off.
Jon soaked in his relaxed face; with the mask removed and the black makeup that
obscured his eyes wiped away along with the rest of the dirt and grime from the
night’s activities, he looked so different up close. He so rarely had such a
neutral expression, either; under normal circumstances, that face of his was
stained with a permanent stink-face or that cocky smirk Jon loved. But not
tonight, not at that moment; instead, his eyes were gently shut, and his mouth
wasn’t stuck in that hard line like usual.
Jon hated how handsome Damian was. But he’d pushed those feelings back a long
time ago.
He stayed like that for a bit longer, just watching Damian fight sleep. Jon
knew it was a losing battle, but didn’t want to say anything to ruin the
moment. It was a chance for Jon to sort through his own feelings in silence,
trying to suppress all those thoughts he had whenever he and Damian were
around. Damian was his best friend and had been for so many years, but Jon was
perfectly aware that it would never move beyond that. He’d come to terms with
that a long time ago; but that didn’t mean it wasn’t hard.
Then all at once, Damian fell asleep, slumping over so that his head connected
with Jon’s shoulder, and he was out. Jon didn’t move at first, mostly due to
his surprise; but Damian was officially out, and there was no denying that
their night had come to an end.
Jon stood slowly and picked up the sleeping Robin; light as a feather, too,
thanks to all of Jon’s strength. He carried the sleeping teen over to his bed
and laid him in it gently. He didn’t tuck him in under the covers or anything;
it was much too hot for that anyway, plus that may cross a line or five.
Looking down at him, Jon forgot for a moment that Damian was actually older
than him given how vulnerable he’d seemed just then. He knew it wouldn’t last;
when Damian woke up, he’d be back to his usual self, all closed off and
reserved. But Jon saved this night in the back of his mind, and swore never to
forget it.
Jon returned to his place on the couch, pulling the pillow under his head and
supporting the other side of it with his arm. He quickly fell asleep, still
playing what had happened over in his mind.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Wow! I'm totally floored by the reactions to the first chapter. So
     from here on, I'm planning to upload chapters twice a week; Mondays
     and Thursdays. As the story progresses and my writing potentially
     slows down, there's a chance that'll go down to once a week, but for
     now I'll be optimistic. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
Jon had always been an excellent student, but he couldn’t be happier that
school was finally ending.
His Junior year had been nothing exceptional; the seniors had already
graduated, though he wasn’t particularly close with any of them. He said
goodbye to a few of his friends from school; they were relationships he knew
wouldn’t last forever because of how complicated his life is, but he enjoyed
their company in school together. Given his summer plans, he knew it was
unlikely that he’d be seeing them until their last year of high school.
Jon already had the conversation with his father about Damian’s offer to join
the Teen Titans. With school out of the way as a distraction (at least for
now), there was little Clark could say to stop his son from joining up. His
enthusiasm to become Superboy again was tangible, and who was he to stop that?
His father, namely, but he had a bit of a soft spot when it came to his son.
The Man of Steel wasn’t so tough after all.
Jon exited his high school for the last time his year. He’d cleared out his
locker a few days prior with a couple of exceptions, all gathered in his bag
(which was light under normal circumstances for obvious reasons, but even more
so now). The bus was running that would take Jon to the edge of the city where
he would be able to fly home with some discretion.
Instead, Jon’s attention was drawn by a high-pitched, shrill honking to his
left. As he exited, a familiar form was leaning on a motorcycle and waiting for
him to take notice. His face was covered with sunglasses, but it wasn’t hard
for Jon to see who it was.
And that’s not because he could see through his glasses with x-ray vision.
“Damian?” Jon asked, more to himself because, obviously, yes it was Damian. He
nodded at Jon and waved for him to come over. Jon wasn’t sure what he was doing
here; meaning in Metropolis at all, much less in front of his high school.
“What are you doing here?” Jon asked as he approached Damian.
“Father said that he had things handled on Gotham and that he would call me if
I'm needed. I decided that I’d come hang out for a day or two before you came
back with me to Gotham,” Damian explained. “Is that a problem?”
“No! No, of course not!” Jon grinned in response. It had been a few weeks since
he’d last visited his friend in Gotham, so he was of course happy to spend more
time with him in Metropolis before they went off to his place for the summer.
Damian invited Jon to jump on the back of his motorcycle; he handed Jon a
helmet (which in this case was so not necessary), but it was the law and would
raise fewer questions if he put it on.
As Jon climbed on the bike, legs on either side of Damian’s hips (gulp), he
took a moment to look back towards the entrance to the school. It had mostly
emptied out by now, the start of summer vacation more than enough to coax his
fellow students out of the building. Many of the lingering faces still lining
up on the buses and saying their goodbyes had wandered over to see Damian and
his badass motorcycle, and he could tell a few people were wondering who he
was.
Jon couldn’t resist listening in with his super hearing.
“Who’s the guy on the bike?” one student wondered. “Probably Jon’s boyfriend,”
mused another. Jon rolled his eyes and stopped listening; what did they know,
anyway? Before Jon could really react, Damian’s motorcycle roared to life and
the pair of them sped from the parking lot.
There was something about being on a motorcycle that instilled a primal fear in
Jon, if only for a moment; his immediate reflex was to grab Damian around the
waist to make sure he didn’t fall off. It was only a couple moments later that
he recalled that virtually no motorcycle crash could injure him, and that he
could just as easy lift up and fly off the thing if he wanted to. As those
thoughts raced through his head, his grip around Damian’s midriff loosened, but
the smirk on his face didn’t go unnoticed by the younger teen. Jon felt his
face heating up, and was thankful that Damian had to focus on the road.
It took a few minutes to get out of the city, as traffic tended to get crazy as
schools all over the city let out. Damian navigated the streets easily, though,
and before long they were out on the country roads, well on their way to Jon’s
home.
Still on the bike, Damian looked straight ahead at the road. Jon looked around,
checking the roads in either direction to see if the coast was clear. Seeing
that there weren’t any cars for a very long time, he let go of Damian’s waist
altogether and floated off the bike, keeping pace alongside it. He slipped his
glasses off his ears and his helmet off his head, not bothering to hide the
huge grin on his face.
He flew only a few feet off the ground on the opposite side of the road so that
only a little distance separated the pair. Damian noticed his absence
immediately, and though keeping his eyes on the road (mostly), did spare a
moment to raise an eyebrow at Jon.
Jon laughed and decided to take a moment for himself, rocketing higher into the
sky; Damian knew the way, and surely Jon wouldn’t be missed for only a few
short moments.
Soon he was above the clouds, the strong yellow sun fueling his powers as he
just hovered there for a moment, grinning. He was glad to be out of school for
the summer, but mostly he thought to his time to come in Gotham City and with
the Teen Titans. Soon he would get to be Superboy again, and he’d get to do it
alongside his best friend. He couldn’t be happier.
Jon began free-falling back towards the Earth, a huge grin on his face. The
wind ripped through his hair as the clouds broke around him, and the road
beneath was exposed. There still weren’t any cars, at least none close enough
to spot him, but Damian was also noticeably absent. No doubt he’d sped on ahead
to greet Jon’s parents before he arrived.
Jon made a mental note to bring Damian up above the clouds sometime soon so
that he could see the same view.
Jon sped down from the sky, helmet still dangling in his hand. His hair was
whipped around in every direction and there would be no hope for taming it
without a shower, but he wasn’t bothered by it. His spirits were much too high.
He landed shortly in his front yard, Damian only just then climbing off his
bike. The younger teen tossed over his helmet, which Damian hung from one of
the handles of the bike while his own was placed in the seat.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” Damian teased, and Jon just
shrugged, still sporting that goofy smile Damian loved.
The pair of them made their way inside, and were immediately greeted by Jon’s
mother. “Welcome home, honey!” she called. “Damian! What a great surprise!”
Lois smiled and hugged Damian who had long since tried protesting; he placed
one hand on her back to feign reciprocation, though both parties were well
aware he wanted nothing to do with that. Still, Damian enjoyed Lois, so he
tolerated it.
The pair was escorted into the living room, where Lois had been reading the
Daily Planet to see what articles she hadn’t already read at work. Clark wasn't
there, though based on the news of something happening downtown, Lois suspected
he’d be taking “an early lunch” soon to go deal with it. Lois and her son
chatted for a moment while Damian sat aside, playing on his phone.
“You’re gonna take care of my boy this summer, right Damian?” Lois teased,
pausing to take a sip of her coffee.
“He doesn’t need my protection,” Damian quipped, a small smirk on his face.
“But yes, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“Good,” she smiled back. “I try not to worry about my boys considering how
tough you are, but I’m not going to stop. Jon, make sure you keep an eye on him
and the other Titans too, okay?”
Jon rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mother, I’ll take care of them,” he groaned. “You
know how weird it is to scold a superhero, right?”
“Oh, you’re a superhero now, are you? Haha!” Lois laughed. It wasn’t mean-
spirited at all, she was just laughing at the retort, and Jon smiled and rolled
his eyes. Even Damian cracked a smile, which was quickly suppressed.
“Damian and I are gonna go up to my room,” Jon informed her, and Damian also
stood. Lois informed them that she’d be starting dinner as soon as Clark got
home, and the two boys thanked her before retreating to Jon’s room.
The pair of them took spots on each other’s bed, Jon watched as Damian examined
the room. Many of the decorations still stood; posters, pictures, things like
that. But the bulk of Jon’s other belongings had all been packed up, like his
clothes and games and things like that.
“You’re packed up early,” he mused. “I take it you're looking forward to your
trip?”
“Of course!” Jon smiled. “I get to spend a whole summer with my best friend,
and I finally get to be Superboy again. This is going to be awesome.”
Damian just nodded, smirking. The two sat and chatted, and Damian told Jon
about the other Titans; Kid Flash, Beast Boy, Starfire, Raven, Aqualad, and
their newest addition (besides Jon, of course), Blue Beetle. Jon had crossed
paths with a couple of them in the past, but he wasn’t really friends with any
of them. He hoped to change that soon.
Eventually when the conversation ran dry, Jon talked Damian into playing video
games with him. It didn’t take too much; Damian was very much a fan of arcades,
particularly one he used to attend semi-regularly with Dick. Damian proved to
be very good at it, but Jon’s experience proved him to be superior at the game.
Although, he had a sneaking suspicion that with a little bit of practice,
Damian would be whooping his ass in no time.
Eventually, Jon’s father returned from work, and Lois soon called the boys down
for dinner. Watching Damian and his father interact was always hysterical to
Jon; Clark considered Damian to be a little Bruce, and is one of the only
younger heroes who wasn’t intimidated by Superman. Years ago when the Justice
League had been brainwashed, Damian actually took down Superman by himself, and
has since earned Clark’s eternal respect.
Damian, though he never told anyone, thought about that day a lot, and how
badass it was.
Clark gave Damian the same schtick over dinner; making sure that he’d watch
Jon’s back and the same way around. Jon grew increasingly embarrassed;
seriously, he was BULLETPROOF, Jon could take care of himself. Sure, he was a
little out of practice, but it’s nothing he couldn’t fix with a bit of training
with the Titans.
Superman also shared his story of his “lunch break”, an apartment fire
downtown. He, of course, was able to rescue everyone inside, and Damian rolled
his eyes a little (internally; he didn’t want to be outright disrespectful to
Superman). It was one of the major differences between Jon and his father, at
least that Damian had noticed; Jon’s humility.
In the alley last time they were in Gotham, Jon told that couple that he was
just there to help. Superman seemed to relish in it; he loved being the hero,
as did Jon, but Damian suspected Superman really enjoyed the recognition that
came along with it. That didn’t make Clark a bad person by any means, but it
did sometimes leave a bad taste in the mouth of someone so used to working in
the shadows.
“How are the Titans coming along anyway, Damian?” Superman asked him. Damian
had been enjoying his dinner, but looked up to meet the hero’s eyes.
“It's going well. Missions have been fairly hard to come by as of late, so the
majority of our meetings are dedicated to training and simulations,” he
explained. “We'll need to be sure to pick that up even more once Jon arrives,
now that we'll have two newer members.”
“Hey!” Jon protested, earning a shove from the younger boy. Damian just smirked
and swatted his hand away. “I’ll have you know that I can stand up to anyone on
that team.”
“Not a chance!” Damian joked. “Raven could take yoyou; probably any of us if
she really wanted to.” He paused for a few moments. “Except me, of course.”
“Oh, obviously,” Jon scoffed, flicking a piece of food at him. Lois scolded him
for doing that at the table, but Jon barely paid any attention to her. He just
laughed and stared at Damian as he wiped the food off his cheek.
Lois had a strange look in her eye Damian took notice of as the two of them
interacted, but neither of them said anything.
Dinner finished up, and happy couple retired to the living room. Damian and Jon
went back up to his room, where the two of them continued playing their game
from earlier. Again Jon was winning, but Damian slowly began closing the gap
between their skill levels even more. After yet another loss, though, Jon could
tell that Damian was done playing.
“I’m bored,” he said, laying flat on his back. The controller lay abandoned in
front of him, and Damian interlocked his fingers behind his head. Jon laid back
next to him, on his side and looking at the older teen.
“There’s not a whole lot to do,” Jon admitted. “We’re way out in the country,
plus it’s getting late. We’re kind of pressed for options.”
“You can fly, and I have a motorcycle,” Damian shrugged. “We should go do a
patrol in Metropolis.”
“What, are you serious? Is your dad okay with you doing that?” Jon asked.
“He doesn’t control me,” Damian shrugged. “Plus what’s he going to say, ‘no,
shame on you for fighting crime’? Please.”
Jon mulled it over; he had to admit, it would be interesting to see the city’s
“nightlife”, so to speak. He’d gotten quite a good look at Gotham’s, but hadn’t
experienced it that way in his own city.
“Do you have your gear?” Jon asked.
“Of course. I also brought yours, just in case.”
“Then let’s do it.”
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm back back back back back again with another chapter! Thank you
     guys again so much for all the love and support in the comments and
     the kudos, it really means the world to me! With that being said, I
     hope you all enjoy <3
It’s nights like tonight that reminded Damian of how dangerous Gotham was.
He’d never really done the vigilante thing outside of Gotham; sure, he’d
traveled and fought people before, and he often traveled to San Francisco to
work with the Titans, but that was for big bads. But just going to stop crime
in other cities? It never seemed necessary.
“I’m so bored,” Damian complained, his feet dangling off the side of a rooftop.
Jon sat next to him, leaning on one arm with his head dangling off to one side.
“We’re not in Gotham; things around here sometimes get quiet at night,” Jon
replied. “Plus, your frame of reference is totally messed up. The first time
Aquaman visited Gotham, I think his reaction was the Atlantian equivalent of
‘Damn bitch, you live like this?’”
Damian snorted. He sneaked a glance over at his friend, whose eyes had closed.
Damian knew well what he was doing, he saw it all over Jon’s face; he was
listening to the city to see if any crimes were going down within earshot. And
Jon’s earshot was quite impressive.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” Jon confirmed. Damian sighed a little and laid back on the rooftop,
soon joined by Jon so that they looked up at the stars together.
What they could see of the stars, anyway; the view was so different from out at
the Kent family’s farm than it was in the middle of Gotham or Metropolis. In
the city you could barely see a thing, what from all the air pollution and the
bright lights of the city. Out on the farm, it was like nothing else; it
reminded him of back home when he lived with his mother, out where the city
couldn’t bother him.
“I’ve got a lot of powers, but telepathy isn’t one of them,” Jon quipped.
“What’s up?”
Damian said nothing for a couple of moments. There wasn’t anything in
particular on his mind; really he was just bored, but he felt as if something
was bothering him. He just wasn’t sure what, which was a very odd sensation,
being frustrated at nothing.
“Nothing,” Damian replied. Jon decided not to push it further.
“Well we’ve stopped one mugging tonight, and nothing’s happened since,” Jon
sighed. “Wanna call it a night?”
Damian checked the time on his phone; it was still early, only about 2:00 in
the morning. It felt weird turning in so early, but it wasn’t like they’d be
missing much. “We may as well,” he conceded.
The pair stood. Jon turned his back, stretching his arms over his head. Damian
really wanted to get him a more appropriate suit for his nighttime escapades,
but he insisted that he just wanted something simple until he could be Superboy
again. He wore only a pair of jeans and a gray hoodie, with a red mask that
Damian had insisted on. The mask was similar to his own, and Kent hated it.
Damian gave him a quick once-over; God, he’d really bulked up in the past year
or so. He knew for a fact that Kent never worked out (why bother, right?), but
he supposed genetics had plenty to do with his physique. Damn Kryptonians were
lucky; Damian exercised every day, and he probably would never get close to
that.
The pair began making their way back towards the edge of the city, where Damian
had stored his motorcycle. It wasn’t easy sneaking out with a loud motorcycle
like that; in fact, Kent volunteered to carry the motorcycle a safe distance
away so that they could start it there. Really they could have just flown, Kent
was more than strong enough to carry Damian, but some part of his pride refused
to let that happen.
Eventually they reached the edge of the city. Metropolis was weird; it was
Urban as all hell and then all at once, the city just stops and becomes country
roads in every direction. It was just this singular mass in the distance,
whereas Gotham was a collection of islands that somehow became one being.
The pair finally reached Damian’s bike, where he promptly got it started. As it
roared to life, Jon debated just riding on the back of the motorcycle, but
decided he’d rather fly instead.
Damian didn’t take off right away; instead, he just tossed the helmet around in
his hands.
“Is everything alright, Damian?”
“Yes. It’s just...” Damian hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this, Kent?”
Jon blinked, a little confused by the question. “Do what?”
“Move to Gotham, join the Titans. Are you sure about all that?”
“Yeah, of course,” he nodded. Jon was surprised; where was all of this coming
from? After all, Damian had been the one to offer him a position in the first
place. “Do you want me to?”
“Of course I do, it’s just...” Damian hesitated. “The Teen Titans are a lot of
work. And where you’ve never worked on a team before, I just want to make sure
it’s something you want to do.”
“I’ve worked with you,” Jon said. “I thought we made a pretty good team.”
“That’s different,” he quipped back. “You and I make a great team alone. When
you combine that with all the others, it gets tricky. I’m just making sure you
know what you are getting into.”
Jon hadn’t seen Damian like this in a long time; he was genuinely worried about
Jon. The older teen watched him closely; he couldn’t see his pupils, only the
flat white surface of his mask where his eyes should be, but Jon felt his
intense gaze.
“I’m sure,” he said. “I want to help; these powers don’t do anyone any good if
I’m stuck in my parents’ house all summer.”
Damian nodded. He climbed on his motorcycle, revved the engine, and the two
began making their way back towards the farm.
They drove as far as they could, until they both agreed that it was time to
turn off the motorcycle. Damian killed the engine, and Jon bent over to pick it
up. He grunted briefly at the exertion, but then hoisted it on his shoulder
like a boombox in an 80’s movie.
“Showoff,” Damian teased, and Jon just smiled. The pair started walking back
towards Jon's home.
“You'll like the Titans,” Damian said, unprovoked. Jon was taken aback; he’d
been thinking about the Titans a lot lately, particularly how excited he was to
join the team. He also had this weird fascination with seeing other peoples’
powers; he knew that one of the others on the team was an alien, one had alien
tech, and the rest were Meta’s. In fact, Damian was the only one on the team
who DIDN’T have powers.
He sometimes wondered if that bothered Damian, but then he remembered that
Damian can probably go toe-to-toe with any of them, even without powers. He did
just fine.
Jon gently set the motorcycle down in the driveway, trying his best to stay
quiet. Though his father was almost definitely in bed by now, he didn’t feel
like pushing his luck since he wasn’t the only one with super-hearing. Damian,
still dressed in his full Robin gear, removed his mask and rubbed his eyes, and
the two made their way around the back of the house so that they could enter
through the window. Jon gave Damian a boost, and then gently floated up to the
window himself.
“Evening, boys,” a voice said. Jon nearly jumped out of his skin, while Damian
just winced a little, knowing they’d been caught. “Have fun?”
Damian looked over and saw Clark sitting on the edge of his son’s bed; his
glasses had been removed, and he wore only his pajamas (he owns pajamas?
Seriously, Superman?).
The pair of them said nothing, just silently looking at the man in front of
them. Jon removed his mask slowly, and pulled the hood down off his head.
“I respect what Bruce does, but this isn’t how we handle things in Metropolis,
Damian,” Clark criticized. Damian winced, and nodded. “And Jon...I had no idea.
Is this what you do when you go to visit Damian in Gotham?”
Jon hesitated for a few moments, but then nodded. “Not at first, but...Damian
needed backup. And I wanted to help.”
“You were supposed to be focusing on school.”
“My grades never suffered because of helping on the weekends,” he defended. “If
I couldn’t be Superboy, I needed to help somehow.”
Clark stayed silent for a moment. He glanced over at Robin, who stood
confidently, unwavering. “Do you have anything to add, Damian?”
“I do not,” he replied quickly. “Jon acted on his own accord, and did exactly
what he felt was right and important. He nor I were ever injured, and he did a
lot of good in Gotham. His backup was not encouraged, but definitely welcome.”
“Does Bruce know about this?”
“I never told him about it,” Damian deflected. “But knowing him, I suspect so.”
Clark nodded; it was a fair point. He thought for a moment, and Jon squirmed
under his gaze; what would he do? Would he keep Jon from going to Gotham, from
joining the Titans? He hoped him getting caught wouldn’t be the nail in the
coffin that messed all of these plans.
“Breakfast is at 8,” he said sternly. “We’re not night owls usually, so we rise
early. We’ll see you two then.” He rose to exit the room, but stopped in the
doorway to look back at the boys. “By the way, Jon, masks don’t suit you. I’ll
give you your suit in the morning.” He exited, closing the door behind him.
The pair stood in silence for a moment, and then Jon’s entire body relaxed.
Having your dad be Superman made getting in trouble extra intimidating. Damian
smirked at him, and Jon was bouncing on his heels; he was going to get his
Superboy suit back!
“Thank God,” Jon breathed, so relieved. He hated keeping secrets from his
family, and something about that was oddly...it felt like his dad was giving
him permission to continue once he moved to Gotham.
“And once you move, you will get to be Superboy,” Damian smiled. “That means
can actually fly."
“Yesssssss!” he grinned, and wrapped Damian in a huge hug, lifting him off the
ground. Damian didn’t exactly reciprocate, but had few options except to let it
happen with his arms pinned at his sides by Jon’s super strength.
“That’s quite enough, Kent,” Damian choked out, breathing compromised by the
embrace. Jon gave one last squeeze before dropping him back on the ground.
“Would you mind if I take the first shower?”
Jon nodded, and Damian went ahead an started getting undressed. It was quite
the ordeal; between the intricate straps keeping all his armor and weaponry in
place (including his sword, which he hadn’t even needed), it took a couple of
minutes for him to get down to just his underwear.
Jon felt his eyes following his friend as he walked around his room half-naked,
but immediately tried to snap his attention to anything else. He ended up
taking a pretty serious interest in the ceiling fan as Damian retrieved a
towel, and shut the door to his bathroom behind him.
Jon breathed to himself, relieved to be alone. Well, not exactly; he loved
being around Damian, but his thoughts had a tendency to get away from him when
he walked around like that.
It’s something he’d been struggling with for a long time, not that he’d ever
brought it up to anyone.
Jon was no idiot; he was quite aware of what his feelings were leading towards
every time he was around Damian, and Damian certainly wasn’t the first and only
man he’d ever been attracted to. He was merely the most significant.
Which proved problematic, considering how complicated both their lives were.
It also wasn’t the first time it occurred to Jon that, yes, the two of them
would be living together. It’s not like they’d be sharing a bed or anything;
Damian had bought one for him to use so that he didn’t have to sleep on the
couch for an entire Summer. Plus they’d be working with the Teen Titans almost
every weekend, so the jury was still out on how often they’d even be there.
But...still.
It had only been getting worse in the past couple of years. When they were
kids, the thought had never even crossed Jon’s mind; once they hit around 14 or
15, Jon felt it, but ignored it. Thought it was just a weird urge that would go
away (spoiler: it didn’t). By the time Jon started sneaking out to join Damian
in Gotham, he had it bad.
He wondered if Damian ever thought about stuff like that; he highly doubted it.
Even as they’d gotten older, as the simplicities of childhood developed into
teenage hormones, not once had Damian ever mentioned having a romantic life.
That’s not to say definitively that he didn’t have one; just that he’d never
shared it with Jon. He wasn’t sure which was worse; the idea of Damian being
lonely, or that he might not share that kind of stuff with his best friend.
Jon was starting to feel kind of down on himself when the door to the bathroom
opened again; Damian stepped out, already dressed this time (thankfully; Jon
couldn’t take that tonight). He ran the towel through his hair, messying it
while it began to dry. Jon stood from his bed, arms stretching over his head,
and went to shower himself.
He didn’t waste much time; Jon wasn’t usually one to take long showers, so he
quickly rushed through his routine and stepped back out. He began drying
himself off; he went to check the mirror to brush his teeth, but steam from the
shower had obscured his reflection. He ran one hand horizontally across the
slick surface, revealing just Jon’s face.
He couldn’t like me back...could he? No, there’s no way.
Jon brushed his teeth quickly, avoiding his eyes in his own reflection, and
then went back out to the bedroom. Damian was still there; he’d taken the seat
at Jon’s desk and was texting someone.
“Who you texting this late at night?” Jon inquired. He slipped into a pair of
shorts while Damian had his back turned.
“Kid Flash,” Damian replied. “He was wondering if I was coming in this
weekend.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” Damian replied shortly. “I’ve been slacking off in Gotham, I need to go
through with the team and get some training done. Blue Beetle has been asking
about you, apparently.”
“Really?” Jon asked, kind of surprised. He’d never met Blue Beetle, but he’d
heard of him. The guy was powerful, and apparently really nice.
“Yes. He says he’s sick of being the new guy,” Damian half-chuckled. “Joking,
of course. But it will be nice to have some new blood on the team.”
Jon smiled to himself; he was excited, too. Meeting other powered people like
him was very exciting; Damian was cool and all, and obviously very strong, but
it was different being around other people with these crazy abilities. Super
speed, flight, telekinesis, stuff like that; there was a strange kinship in
being part of that.
“Can’t wait,” Jon smiled.
The two of them sat in silence for a while. Jon laid back on his bed, one hand
behind his head and the other laid comfortably across his stomach. He just
stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to take him, but it wouldn’t. He’ll
admit that his sleep schedule got a little messed up by his trips in Gotham,
but he’s almost always in bed before 3 a.m. Jon’s clock informed him that it
was nearing 4:30, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to sleep.
Damian was also still awake, though he wasn’t even trying to sleep. This was
normal for him; his schedule was (usually) opposite to that of Jon. He wondered
if, once they moved to Gotham, if Jon should keep working with Damian at night,
or if he should start being a hero during the day again; his father said that
masks didn’t suit him, which meant more than just literally wearing one;
Superman wasn’t the type to skulk around on rooftops. He was a symbol of hope;
Batman operated with fear, and so did Robin to a certain extent. And that
wasn’t a judgmental statement, Batman fully admits to that. Jon hoped that
Damian would change that, and become more of a symbol closer to that of Jon’s
father, but sometimes he doubted if he would go for that.
In fact, it was a near impossibility.
“Still texting Kid Flash?” Jon asked. It didn’t really matter, it wasn’t really
any of Jon’s business, but the room had been silent for too long and if he
wasn’t going to get to sleep any time soon, he figured he may as well try to
get in some conversation.
“Yes. He insists on dumping all of his girl troubles on me, despite being
literally thirty feet from Aqualad,” Damian groaned, locking his phone. It
almost immediately lit back up as soon as he’d set his phone down. “I hate how
quickly he texts back.”
“It’s kind of his gig,” Jon chuckled. “Hey, why do you call him Kid Flash? Do
you know know who he really is?”
“I do,” Damian confessed. “But he thinks I don’t, or he at least has never told
me. The others don’t know his real name, which is why I’ve never brought it
up.”
“Do they know who you are?”
“They know my name is Damian, and they know that Batman is my father,” he
explained. “But they do not know my last name, no. It’s to protect my own
identity as well as Father’s.”
“I guess I should probably introduce myself as Superboy instead of Jon, then,
huh?” Jon inquired.
“Maybe. You can probably go by Jon if you want to, it’s a common enough name to
where nobody would think twice about it,” Damian shrugged. He was already
texting Kid Flash again. “I wish he would leave me alone about this. Seriously,
just go talk to Aqualad...” he mused aloud.
“Is there a reason he won’t?”
“Sort of,” Damian sighed. “Aqualad is gay. That isn’t a problem to Kid Flash by
any means, but he insists that these are girl troubles, which removes Aqualad
from being an expert on the topic. As if I have ample experience in that
regard; really, he should be complaining to Beast Boy.”
Jon was surprised to hear that; Aqualad was gay? He didn’t know that any of the
Teen Titans were gay, but in hindsight he didn’t see why they couldn’t be. The
thought of it was oddly comforting to the teen, that someone who felt the same
way could reach such a position.
Jon also noticed the opportunity this gave him to steer the conversation in his
favor.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Jon asked. He felt his heart start racing at
the inquiry, but pushed it down; he wondered if Damian could tell he was
nervous.
“No,” he said shortly. He rested his chin in his palm, now ignoring Kid Flash’s
texts. He wondered what was said, or maybe if Damian had simply had enough.
“Why not?”
“What do you mean?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “It has
never been a priority. Having a girlfriend would be an incredible liability,
it’s simply a relationship with too many risks to have a substantial reward.”
Jon rolled his eyes, but he didn’t think Damian saw it. Always the practical
one; he’d long since grown accustomed to Damian’s cold exterior, knowing that
it was (mostly) a front, but something about the sentiment felt oddly sincere.
“I guess,” Jon agreed half-heartedly. He half expected Damian to ask him back,
ask if Jon had ever had a girlfriend, but the question never came. He suspected
Damian already knew the answer; Jon had always been more eager to share things
of a personal nature, so if he had entered a relationship, surely Damian would
have heard about it. Still, Jon was thankful to not answer the question.
“I’m going to get some sleep,” Damian said abruptly. Jon didn’t reply, only
watch as Damian laid on the ground parallel to his own bed. Jon dropped a
pillow on the ground for him, and the older teen silently thanked him before
rolling to face away from Jon. His body immediately went still; Jon listened in
carefully, noticing that his breathing had totally evened out. He doubted that
Damian had fallen asleep that quickly, but he suspected he was well on his way.
The younger teen rolled over as well, facing the wall of his bedroom. So too
did his eyes start to close, though he had a sinking feeling that sleep
wouldn’t be coming anytime soon.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Damian was getting slightly aggravated.
It was his offer, and he fully recognized that. He had known going into this
that Kent would be living in extremely close proximity for an extended period
of time.
Still, it was weird. It felt slightly...invasive? Which made no sense because
Kent had been invited, but still.
Damian paced back and forth in his living room, listening to the sounds of Kent
setting up in his room. Heard Kent mumbling slightly under his breath, an
unconscious habit, Damian knew, of Jon’s when he was thinking. He supposed Kent
was trying to figure out where to put everything on the side of the room Damian
had given him. Despite being the penthouse, Damian’s apartment only had one
bedroom—albeit a very large one. Damian had simply bought another bed for Kent
for when he moved in. considering how long he stayed over even before that, it
was probably long overdue.
Damian occasionally passed by the door, feet betraying him and causing him to
slow, to check on Kent’s progress. In truth, his friend’s decorating was fairly
minimal: a small poster beside the bed, and a picture of his parents on a
nightstand. His sheets were brightly colored in stark contrast with the darker
tones Damian had used in the rest of the room, oddly symbolic of the two—one
bright ray of color in a sea of black. He resumed his pacing, agitation itching
under his skin.
Damian wasn’t sure what his problem was. Kent had stayed with him a hundred
times or more, but this felt...intimate? Damian had never had a “roommate”
before. For the first half of his life, he had lived with the League of
Assassins, then with Father at the manor. After that, he’d lived alone. The
occasional guest came and went, but this was different. Damian felt somehow
exposed, despite that he had no secrets from Kent.
He was going to lose his mind.
“All done!” Kent exclaimed, exiting the room. He dusted off his hands and put
them on his hips triumphantly. For a moment he looked like a younger version of
his father: chest puffed out, that stupid stance, that unselfconscious grin.
But then the facade dropped and he was Damian’s friend again, shooting off a
goofy smile.
Damian relaxed a little. Just a little, though.
“Good,” Damian said shortly, turning so that Kent wouldn’t see him smile. “We
should get some rest. It’s a long flight to the tower tomorrow.”
“To the tower?” Jon asked. “Oh right, tomorrow is Friday! We’re going to meet
the Titans, right?”
Damian nodded affirmatively. He could admit that he was nervous to bring Kent
along. He would be the only one of them that knew Damian’s secret identity, and
the guy had a way of running his mouth. But Damian knew at the end of the day
that Jon could be counted on for the things that really mattered, and this most
certainly did.
The two chatted for a minute or two. Mostly, Kent had a million questions that
would be answered on their own in time. He asked about Raven’s powers,
Starfire’s home world, Wally’s speed, and so on. Then his questions turned to
Aqualad.
“How did you meet him?”
“He found us,” Damian admitted. “We were dealing with some missing persons
around San Francisco Bay, and found out that King Shark had been kidnapping
people and trapping them in this underwater prison below Alcatraz. He’d
recently had some…revelations, and decided that he needed to do what he wanted
to do with his life, not what anyone else did. So he sought us out, and though
I’d never say it to his face, he saved my life.”
“Revelations? You mean about him being gay?” Kent inquired. Damian offered a
small nod in exchange. “That must have been lonely for him—already considered
to be odd by people in his normal life, not to mention his powers. I feel bad
for him.”
“Yeah,” Damian trailed off. He’d never thought of it that way, really. Where
Damian didn’t have powers of his own, things like that would often slip his
attention. But Damian was no stranger to feeling isolated.
“Does he have a boyfriend?” asked Kent, bringing him out of his thoughts.
“None that I’m aware of,” Damian admitted. “Which means no, he doesn’t. I keep
close tabs on my team.”
Jon stayed silent a moment. His lips moved almost imperceptibly as he thought
about something, eyes just to the left of Damian’s shoulder, but Damian
couldn’t figure out what. Kent seemed to have taken an interest in Aqualad, and
had yet to ask about Beast Boy or Kid Flash or any of the others. It made
Damian wonder why.
“I don’t know many gay superheroes,” Jon admitted after a moment. He leaned
back in the couch, head tilted back and looking towards the ceiling.
“There aren’t many, not that are open at least,” Damian sighed the words,
though he wasn’t sure why. “The LGBTQ community has become more visible, but
they still make up a smaller part of the population than straight people. And
people who are enhanced make up an even smaller part. Mathematically, it’s
unlikely that there would be much overlap.”
Jon went quiet. The air in the room felt tense all of a sudden, so Damian
decided to try lightening the mood with what people sometimes referred to as a
“joke”.
(He obviously knew what a joke was; he wasn’t that much of a tightass)
“I’ve had my suspicious about a few, though. Nightwing does enjoy his spandex.”
Jon immediately began cackling. They were both aware of Nightwing’s reputation
as a lady-killer, and, in Damian’s opinion, it was very unlikely that he was
anything but straight. In all the nights during and since they’d patrolled
together as Batman and Robin, Damian had never heard Grayson mention anything
about being attracted to men. Though, realistically, even Damian had to admit
that the idea was merely improbable, not impossible. Regardless, Nightwing was
in a very serious relationship with Starfire, which meant it made little
difference one way or another.
“Do you think Kryptonians can be gay?” Jon asked. The tension returned as
suddenly as it’d gone, and the moment suddenly felt like it carried more
weight, more significance, than it had ten seconds ago.
“I don’t see why not,” Damian said calmly, careful to keep his voice neutral
and steady. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Gender has never really felt like a big factor to me.
And I used to hang out with Supergirl more than I do now, and she’d mentioned
something similar to that. Maybe it’s just an alien thing.”
“It’s possible,” Damian mused. He’d never really given that much thought.
Romance and things like that rarely crossed his mind (he’d heard the term ‘ace’
thrown around a few times in regards to the LGBTQ community, but he’d never
properly researched it – he made a mental note to do so later). “Perhaps
sexuality is a human concept, and it’s merely been a coincidence that the
Kryptonians we’re aware of have been in relationships with the opposite gender.
Maybe your father really had a big crush on Green Lantern.”
“Ew!” Jon laughed. “Please, if he was going to be gay for anyone, it would
probably be your dad.”
Damian felt bile rise in his throat, but forced it back down. “Tt,” he sneered,
refusing to verbalize anything for fear of losing dinner.
The room fell silent again after Kent’s laughter finally subsided. The two were
both thinking to themselves; whatever was on Jon’s mind, Damian had no idea,
but Damian knew exactly what he wanted to ask. It felt oddly personal, though,
and he wasn’t sure if it was something he wanted to press.
It was no secret to either of them that Damian wasn’t exactly a resident expert
on ‘feelings’ and things like that. Conversations like that simply did not
happen with him, and if they did, it was often only due to his father’s or
Grayson’s probing. The question he wanted to ask felt incredibly sensitive. To
a human, one might even consider it offensive, but Jon himself had just brought
up the topic and his own thoughts on the matter.
Damian decided to go for it.
“So, are you?”
“Am I what?” Jon retorted. Damian felt as though it was fairly obvious what he
was asking, but even if Jon knew, it almost felt like he wanted to hear the
words.
“Are you gay?”
Jon went silent for what felt like a long time. His face had started turning
red, embarrassed, but he wasn’t denying it outright. That felt like answer
enough to Damian, but then Jon finally spoke.
“I don’t think so,” Jon admitted. “It’s not that I don’t like girls; I’ve had
crushes on a few in the past. But...I don’t not like boys.”
Damian repeated Kent’s words in his own mind a few times. “So that would make
you bisexual, then?”
“I guess,” Jon shrugged. He visibly relaxed, a small smile tugging at the
corners of his mouth. Damian could tell this was something that had been
weighing on his friend. He was glad Jon could relax about it now, at least
around him.
Damian felt his perception of Jon shift, if only slightly. Seeing him be this
personal about his feelings, this vulnerable, filled him with a newfound
respect. It was plainly obvious to anyone that Jon was brave. In the face of
danger, he’d hardly if ever back down. But to show one’s heart like that was a
different kind of bravery, one that Damian had struggled with all his life and
would likely to struggle with for the rest of it.
He didn’t know what to say except “Cool.” Kent blinked up at him a couple times
and then chuckled. And that was that.
They resumed their Q&A, Kent moving his questions towards the rest of the team.
Damian answered what he could, but eventually insisted that he could ask these
questions to the team themselves, and that they both get some sleep. Damian
would need to swing by the Batcave tomorrow to get a plane, so they’d need to
get up early so that they made it to the tower on time. The two retreated back
to Damian’s—now their shared—bedroom, and climbed into their respective beds.
Damian shut off the lights, and the room went entirely silent for a long time.
Damian knew he was in for a long night. It was still early (for him), so
getting to sleep would be tricky. Plus, his conversation with Kent kept
spinning around in his mind, playing over and over again.
After a few minutes, a sleepy-sounding Kent piped up from across the room.
“Damian?”
“Yes, Kent?” he called back.
“...Thank you.”
Damian didn’t respond; he didn’t know how to. It didn’t seem to bother Kent,
though, because soon his breathing evened out, and Damian could tell he’d
fallen asleep. Oddly content, somehow he was soon able to follow suit.
When Jon awoke, Damian was already out of bed. He sat up straight, arms
stretching high over his head, and yawned. He ran his fingers through his hair,
trying to think of what he had to do today.
It was a significant day: he got to meet the Teen Titans today, and if he
played his cards right, he might get to see the Batcave.
Memories of last night slowly crept into his thoughts, particularly his
conversation with Damian about his feelings. He hadn’t meant for that to come
up, but something about the time felt right. It wasn’t admitting he had
feelings for Damian, but it was a good start towards real honesty with him. Jon
decided to check that one off as a victory.
He got out of bed, scratching his chest lazily as he exited the bedroom and
went to find his friend. Damian was already dressed—nothing overly fancy, as
Jon suspected he wanted to be comfortable. But he did wear a button-up shirt, a
blazer and some neatly pressed slacks. The top couple of buttons of his shirt
were undone, revealing a sliver of bronze skin that Jon had to actively work to
ignore.
“We’ll be leaving shortly,” Damian reported. “Are you ready to go?”
Jon snorted, and sprinted off to the bathroom as quickly as he could. In only a
few short moments, Jon had showered, used the bathroom, and brushed his teeth.
He ran out again, back into their shared bedroom, grabbed his bag to bring to
the Tower, and got dressed. He walked out less than a minute after he’d begun,
fully ready to leave.
“Tt, showoff,” Damian rolled his eyes at Jon’s use of his powers. Jon just
smiled at him and gestured towards the door. The pair of them put on their
shoes and exited together, Damian grabbing his keys on the way out.
It still felt weird taking the elevator—this was only Jon’s second time riding
in it, to be honest, the first being yesterday when he’d brought in his stuff.
Every other time he’d just flown up and landed on the patio, then come inside.
He wondered if this would need to become a regular thing; this thing was too
slow.
Jon pulled his backpack tighter, and joined Damian on his motorcycle after
retrieving it from the building’s garage. Jon crawled on the back, joining his
arms around Damian’s waist as he sped off onto the streets of Gotham.
Gotham truly felt like a lawless place sometimes. Where in Metropolis Damian
would stop at traffic lights and brake for pedestrians, here he drove like a
demon. He swerved around cars, ran a red light or two, and generally presented
a huge middle finger to traffic laws everywhere. Jon held on tight to avoid
falling off in all the craziness.
Soon they made it out of the downtown area, and it didn’t take long from there
to reach Wayne Manor. Jon had visited once or twice before, and it never ceased
to amaze him. However impressed he was by Damian’s fancy penthouse apartment,
this put it to shame. The building was so unnecessarily huge, he had no idea
how the Wayne butler, Alfred, could care for it all on his own.
Damian parked the bike out front, removing his helmet and leaving it in his
seat. He hadn’t bothered offering one to Jon today. Jon wouldn’t—couldn’t—be
hurt in a crash anyway, and he suspected the police in Gotham were a little bit
more lax about that sort of thing based on Damian’s driving.
Jon hesitated slightly behind Damian as the two ascended the steps up to the
front door of Wayne Manor, but quickly caught up. He didn’t bother knocking,
simply pushed the large door open and walked inside. Jon followed shortly.
“Master Damian, a pleasure as always,” Alfred greeted. “And young Master Kent!
Lovely seeing you again.”
“Afternoon, Pennyworth,” Damian replied, a small smile on his face. In his
youth, Jon knew, Damian had been far too short with the man, but the pair had
warmed up to each other considerably since then.
“Hey,” Jon greeted, much less formally. Alfred descended the staircase and
stood firmly in front of them, hands held behind his back.
“Your father is waiting for the both of you in the Batcave, Master Damian,” he
explained. “I presume the two of you are leaving for San Francisco?”
Jon nodded affirmatively. “I’m joining the Teen Titans today!”
“So I’ve heard. You have my congratulations, Master Kent,” Alfred smiled. “Now
go on you two, he’ll be waiting for you.”
Jon bounced on his heels a little bit as Damian guided him through the mansion.
He wasn’t sure where they were going; he’d assumed the Batcave would be
underground, but his friend led him upstairs and into what seemed to be some
kind of study.
“Is there a secret entrance in here?” Jon asked.
“Yes.”
“Sweet.”
Jon let his eyes rove around the room. It wasn’t anything particularly fancy,
but he could tell everything was expensive. Books lined every wall but one,
where large, luxurious curtains hung from the ceiling and fell all the way to
the floor. The room was illuminated only by a single desk lamp left on, shining
most of its light on the grandfather clock that stood against the right wall.
Damian approached it, opening the face as if he were going to wind it. Jon
stepped behind him and examined it; the clock appeared to be broken, as it
wasn’t moving, and was set to around six in the morning. The older teen began
turning the handles, sliding the minute hand around time and time again until
the time showed 10:27. There was a loud click, and Damian stepped back from the
clock and shut the cover of it. It slid to one side, revealing a single
fireman’s pole.
“Does that time mean anything? 10:27?” Jon asked, but Damian didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached forward to grab the pole, and slid down into the Batcave.
Jon hesitated slightly, but eventually he, too slid down the pole.
It took longer than he expected. Naturally, it had to be pretty far down, but
it felt like it took forever for the small, cramped tunnel to give way into the
larger cave.
Huge stalagmites clung to the ceiling, hanging overhead like icicles. Jon’s
hearing also granted him the luxury of hearing actual bats crawling around,
shuffling slightly as they slept throughout the day. He also heard the distinct
sound of rushing water, though he couldn’t see where it was coming from.
Whatever Jon expected of the Batcave, it wasn’t this. There was a giant T-rex
practically shoved in the corner, along with tons of other memorabilia from
battles past. There was also a cow. Batcow, Jon presumed. Damian had mentioned
his bovine friend many times.
Damian was approaching what must have been the Batcomputer. It was a huge,
single monitor surrounded by nearly a dozen smaller ones, with a huge keyboard
out in front. He saw Bruce sitting in front of it, pouring through files of
Arkham inmates, as if keeping track on everyone he’d caught.
“Hello, Father,” Damian greeted. Jon jogged slightly to catch up with his
friend, while still looking around in awe of the room around him. He’d visited
the Fortress of Solitude, but this was so much cooler.
He made a mental note to never tell that to his dad.
“Hello, Damian,” Bruce greeted. “Hello, Jon.”
“Hello, Mr. Wayne,” Jon said, half-nervous. This guy always made him nervous,
at least when he was in the suit. Right now, he was kind of half-dressed: he
wore no mask, but he still had the rest of the suit on.
“We just need to take the jet, then we’re heading for San Francisco,” Damian
explained. The two of them seemed to have an icy relationship. There was no
malice in their words, but it felt so different than what Jon was accustomed
to. It was uncomfortable for him to say the least.
“Of course. But before you go,” Bruce paused. “I wanted to bring something up
to you. When you get to the Tower, expect a mission to be arriving shortly.
Most likely this evening.”
“What’s going on?” asked Jon. Bruce raised an eyebrow, half-amused at his
enthusiasm at the thought of a mission.
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ve got Justice League business to attend to. Normally
this is something I would handle myself, but I know the Teen Titans can handle
it.”
“Of course we can,” Damian said confidently. “Just send everything you have
over to the computer. We’ll take care of it.” Bruce nodded, and the two turned
their backs on each other. Bruce returned to the computer, and Damian headed
towards the jet.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the love up to this point <3 so for
     now I'll give you a little heads up, this chapter (and kinda the
     next) aren't super DamiJon heavy - there's some world building I need
     to do to set up the proper situations, but trust me when it's coming!
     Y'all have been pointing out in the comments how much of a slow burn
     this is, but I swear we're getting somewhere!! Haha anyway in the
     meantime, enjoy!
Jon had never been to Titan Tower, but this was not what he was expecting.
Somehow, this place was even more awesome than Damian’s apartment.
The tower was literally situated in the middle of an island in the San
Francisco bay, and was actually in the shape of a giant ‘T’. Whoever designed
this thing definitely took the assignment a bit literally...but hey, it
certainly made a statement.
Damian flew in closer and began landing the jet on the roof of the building; it
seemed to be the only one parked there, but really he was the only one who
required that kind of vehicle to cross long distances like that. Kid Flash
could run, Aqualad used the seas, and everyone else on the team could fly, so
it kind of made sense that Damian would be the odd one out.
Once landed, Damian wasted no time; he reached into a small compartment next to
his seat in the jet and retrieved his mask, placing it over his eyes. Jon had
nearly forgotten that the team didn’t know his secret identity.
“Yo, Robin! Superboy!” Jon heard, muffled from the distance. Jon glanced out
the window to see a small, green boy waving from the doorway leading into the
tower. Beast Boy sported a huge, toothy grin, and gestured for the pair of them
to come inside.
Jon and Damian exited the plane and made their way towards the door; Jon took a
moment to go and stand by the edge of the tower and look out at the skyline, as
well as down onto the island itself. He saw a large red blob lying there,
slightly moving as if breathing. Jon looked closer and realized it was actually
Goliath, napping under a tree; he would need to make sure to go visit him
later.
Damian called out, urging Jon to hurry up. He looked back at Damian, suddenly a
little nervous; what if the other Titans didn’t like him? What if they were all
totally out of his league and didn’t want him to join? Jon had lots of awesome
powers, but he was severely out of practice with most of them. He had a sinking
feeling that if they were to spar, Jon would lose to more than one of them.
Regardless, Jon followed Damian into the building’s interior. It was nice;
sparsely decorated, but it’s more or less what he imagined. It was all very
high-tech, most of which was outfitted by Cyborg from the Justice League. As
they approached what was sort of a “living room”, Jon could hear people talking
and laughing.
The pair entered the main room, which suddenly went quiet. Jon could place a
name to most of the faces; Starfire, Beast Boy, and Aqualad were all pretty
easy ones. Kid Flash was in his full gear, face concealed, so that wasn’t too
hard either. There was also a Hispanic boy that Jon didn’t recognize, but he
suspected that had to be Blue Beetle. Raven was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey, Robin!” Kid Flash greeted, running over. He stood face to face, only a
foot or so away from Jon. “You’re Superboy, right?”
“Y-Yeah, that’s me, I guess,” Jon half-chuckled.
Kid Flash smiled. “I’m Kid Flash.”
“Obviously,” Damian sighed, rolling his eyes. Kid Flash shot a half-hearted
glare towards the team’s leader, but then walked over towards Beast Boy.
“Everyone, this is Superboy. Superboy, this is the team. He’s going to be
working with us for the Summer, possibly beyond,” Damian introduced. “I’ve
already started on working him into our formations, but we’ll need to practice
a few of them before we get out in the field. Batman also advised me that we
may be receiving a mission very soon, so sooner is going to be better than
later.”
Quickly, Everyone came up to introduce themselves to Jon one at a time.
Starfire seemed lovely, though still somehow struggling with English grammar
after all these years. Beetle seemed really cool, and Beast Boy informed him
that most people called him Gar unless they were on a mission. Aqualad was
surprisingly somber; not sad, per say, but more subdued than he’d imagined.
Very serious.
“Is Raven in her room?” Damian asked, and the rest of the team nodded
collectively. “Someone get her and bring her to the training area; we’ve got
work to do.”
Kid Flash volunteered, sprinting off to wherever Raven’s room was in a blur.
The rest of the team all got together and started heading downstairs, crowding
into an elevator that brought them five stories below.
The doors opened back up, and Jon was amazed at what he saw. The room they now
stood in was enormous, with high ceilings a wide open space. It felt like an
airplane hangar, but slightly smaller. On the left there was some sort of
observation deck. Oddly, Jon didn’t see any kind of exercise equipment; the
room appeared to be completely empty.
“Whoa,” he vocalized. The rest of the team had filed in, already used to the
view, Jon supposed. He walked up to catch up to everyone; he was the youngest
and the newest member of the group, so he wanted to make sure to keep up
appearances.
Damian gave him a once-over. “You ready?” he asked.
“Ready for what?”
“Training,” he said. “I know what you can do, but I want to show the team what
you’re capable of before we all start trying to work together. Think you’re up
for that?”
Jon swallowed, but then nodded. Jon undid a few of the buttons on his shirt and
removed it, revealing his Superboy costume he was wearing underneath. The shirt
was discarded and he also shrugged off his jeans; he grabbed the cape to
untangle it and let it flow behind him, and slowly floated into the air.
He could see the looks from the other Titans; they could obviously see now that
he was connected to Superman, and likely had many of his powers. It was an
intimidating fact for them; Superman was seen as the strongest hero on Earth,
and for someone else to have those powers wasn’t an easy thing to swallow.
Even Damian seemed impressed; after all, this was his first time seeing Jon’s
new suit. It was nearly a replica of his father’s, with some slight alterations
just to differentiate himself a bit. However, most importantly, it had the red
cape and the “S” symbol on the chest.
That’s what they were staring at.
“Let’s get this started!!” Gar cheered excitedly, pumping his fist in the air.
“Show us what you’ve got, Superboy.”
Jon glanced over at Damian, a little nervous to let him see Jon going at this
with full-power, but he was gone. Instead, Damian had taken a place in the
observation deck and was messing with some kinds of controls. The rest of the
team went up to join him, and as they entered, the elevator behind Jon opened
again. Kid Flash entered alongside a girl in a dark blue cloak, presumably
Raven. She said nothing and offered no kind of greeting, but Kid Flash did
offer a friendly wave (and a surprised look) to see Jon flying and in his full
suit.
The two of them joined the rest of the Teen Titans in the observation deck.
“The weapons won’t hurt you, but they’ll sting if they make contact,” Damian
said, his voice slightly distorted from some kind of intercom system. “Take
them down however you like; assume that human lives are not on the line and
really let them have it. You ready?”
Jon said nothing, but nodded at Damian. Damian smiled proudly, and Jon felt his
chest tighten a little; he was going to do good. If nobody else, he was
determined to impress Damian.
Projectors appeared from the walls, and bodies began to materialize; Jon
couldn’t tell if they were holograms, or if they were actually physically
there, but they looked real enough to him. They brandished a collection of
weapons; swords, staffs, a couple even boasted firearms.
Jon popped his neck; it had been too long since he didn’t have to hold back.
“Go!”
Jon didn’t need to be told twice. Extending his arms out in front of him like
he’d seen his father do so many times, he rocketed towards the men. Their
swords came up, taking defensive stances, and the men cocked their rifles. Jon
went for the closest hologram, some poor schmuck with a sword. Jon landed right
in front of him and palmed his head like a basketball, rotating around 360
degrees and flinging him into two guys with guns. He felt the contact under his
skin, but it didn’t feel like he was actually grabbing a person; despite that,
they had weight to him that felt accurate to that of a real person. He didn’t
understand this technology, but he really was impressed by it.
The three bodies vanished into pixels, and five more appeared to take their
places. One man who appeared atop the observation deck had what appeared to be
a sniper rifle, which Jon disposed of with his heat vision. He too vanished,
and that’s when Jon felt something connect with his back.
What probably would have killed a normal person (had it been a real sword)
instead broke off, the destroyed weapon hitting the ground before vanishing
into nothingness. Even the fake person seemed confused, and Jon took the
opportunity to punch him hard enough that he collided with the opposite wall.
On his left, Jon noticed what seemed like a horde of men charging at him. The
bulk of them had swords, and he wasn’t even sure what kinds of weapons some of
the others had. Jon took a deep inhale, and with his breath, knocked the entire
group of them on their asses. Some tried clinging to their spots by sinking
their weapons into the ground, but inevitably they too lost their grip and went
flying back. As each of them made contact with the opposite wall, they
shattered into pixels along with whatever weapons they left behind.
This all went on for several minutes; with each enemy Jon took down, two more
would replace them, and then the cycle would continue. At one point men
materialized all around him with machine guns and unloaded on him (Jon had a
distinct feeling that Damian may have been cranking up the difficulty).
However, the “bullets” merely bounced off his skin, and he just stood there
waiting for their clips to run empty. As soon as they all stopped, Jon took one
leap into the air, and slammed back down with his fist. The shockwave sent all
of them flying, and the lights in the room all flickered from the force.
Then, the holograms stopped coming. Jon looked up at the observation booth and
grinned. “That’s all you got?”
The stunned faces on the other side held no secrets; the only two with even
remotely neutral expressions were Raven (whose was only slightly intrigued),
and Damian’s (whose was somewhere between frustrated and proud).
And that was a pretty good description of how Damian was feeling. Watching
Jon...watching Superboy go at it really was a sight to behold; however, it
almost felt like he was showboating, and decided he’d crank things up a notch.
“Is this kid for real?” Beast Boy said, more to himself than to the room.
“He is incredible,” Starfire confirmed.
“Tt,” Damian grunted, frustrated, but it was soon replaced by a small smirk.
“Alright, Superboy, game on.”
Jon saw Damian fiddling with the controls, and to his right, Jon felt a large
presence coming to form. From the ground up, Jon saw huge claws, a scaled body,
and then one massive head come to form. It roared loudly and before he knew it,
a fully formed T-Rex was standing in front of him.
“Recognize him?” Damian called, and Jon just laughed. It was the T-Rex from the
Batcave; Damian must have gotten the model from that.
It began charging at Jon; he could probably end this fairly quickly, but he
felt like playing with it a bit more. Instead he let it charge, its snout
lowering so that its teeth would be even with Superboy’s body. Jon raised his
hands and as it went to bite, took hold of two of the dinosaur’s teeth. Jon
expected to stop it in its tracks, honestly, but it had more force behind it
than he’d prepared for. He pushed with all his might, but his feet began
sliding across the floor. He tried planting them harder into the ground, but
still the dinosaur charged.
Not that his strength went unrecognized, though; the beast was obviously
frustrated, roaring right into the teenager’s face. Jon decided to switch
strategies; rather than just stopping it, he quickly moved one hand up to its
snout to grab the side of its nostril, and lifted.
Its large, clawed feet lifted off the ground and the beast wailed, its tail
making contact with the ceiling and had it been a real dinosaur, would probably
have caused extensive damage. Jon was feeling the pressure; he may have
overestimated himself, but he wasn’t about to give up now. He yelled, trying to
force himself to flip the animal over his head, and slammed it into the ground.
The dino went limp, and quickly disappeared as the men before had. The room
went silent except for Jon’s heavy breathing, finally exhausted from all the
fighting. He was sweating, his hair damp and falling down in his face now. He
glanced back up at the observation booth where literally the entire team was
slackjawed. Even Raven’s eyes had gone wide, her mouth slightly agape, whereas
Beast Boy’s chin was hitting the ground.
Damian was the only exception, who just had this devious grin on his face. He
raised a single thumbs up to Jon, who grinned and returned it right back.
“He’s incredible,” Aqualad said, which was quickly confirmed by Beetle offering
a quiet “damn”.
“He needs work,” Damian said honestly; Jon was going all out there, and while
he did great, he was only used to working alone or with Damian. To get him up
to speed with a full team would take time.
Damian glanced over at Raven who had stopped watching Superboy, and instead was
staring directly at Damian, almost suspiciously. Damian normally isn’t bothered
by Raven’s antics, but something about the way she watched him today made him
squirm. He decided to try ignoring it, and addressed the group.
“Let’s run some formations with him, just to get him up to speed. Let’s go,
Titans."
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys! So this should be the last chapter of kind-of filler as I
     build into the bulk of the story. Expect my new chapter coming this
     Monday, and that's when shit will start getting good :P
     P.S., thank you all SO MUCH for all the comments and kudos! It's been
     so long since I've written, it really feels nice to know that you all
     are enjoying the story. There's much to come! As of now, I've written
     up to Chapter 11, so expect at least that far before I might
     potentially slow down my posting schedule. Hopefully that won't be an
     issue!
     Anyway, please enjoy <3
Damian was right; working in a team was hard.
Jon wasn’t used to many obstacles he couldn’t punch through or fly over; if he
were running after a criminal in Gotham, there was usually little between him
and his objective. Working in a team this size was another matter altogether.
The rest of the Teen Titans fought like a single organism; everyone was
constantly aware of where their teammates were and what they were doing, and
moved around each other like choreographed dancers. Jon was the odd one out,
and it was no secret to the rest of the group; once he accidentally shoulder-
checked Kid Flash across the room. It’s a good thing he healed fast.
“Keep up, Superboy!” Damian goaded him. Jon was getting to watch him to go work
with that sword of his against the holographic enemies. He really was a master.
Not one blade got even close to him, each one was parried or blocked or dodged
altogether, and he was able to dispose of each of them with ease. They’d moved
into non-lethal combat; acting as if it were real people they were fighting
rather than just lifeless holograms. That meant Jon had to hold back, which
Damian criticized him for because it means he would hesitate.
Mostly, Jon tried following Starfire’s example; she too had incredible
strength, but whenever she was forced into hand-to-hand combat, she fought so
elegantly. And when she could, she kept a distance and instead did battle with
those strange green bolts of energy.
The only comparable thing Jon could offer was his heat vision, but that left
quite a mark on regular people. He decided to save that as a last-resort type
of thing and even if he had to, to never use it on any vital organs on
someone’s body. Maybe a thigh or something if he had to.
As hours passed, and as more drills were run, Jon started to get a feel for it.
He still felt clumsy in the larger group; now not only had he accidentally hit
Kid Flash, but once he also backhanded Blue Beetle. He seemed the forgiving
type, though, and plus that armor of his was no joke. It barely left a scratch
on him.
They were just about to begin another simulation when red lights flashed
through the room.
“Batman’s mission?” Jon asked, and the rest of the room nodded at once. The
team all quickly exchanged glances before making their way over to the
elevator, up to where they would receive their assignment.
The ride up to the main room was a bit more crowded with Raven and Kid Flash
added to the mess. In fact, Jon stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Raven, which
was very uncomfortable. He’d yet to speak a word to her and likewise, but she
was watching him closely out of the corner of her eye. It was almost like she
was suspicious of him, though Jon couldn’t figure out why.
Damian was at her other shoulder, arms folded over his chest in thought. Jon
peered over at him, but he seemed totally wrapped up in his own little world.
Raven’s gaze intensified as he watched Damian, so he turned back to face the
door to the elevator.
When they reached the top floor, back to the main room where Jon had first met
the group, the large window that looked out onto the bay was no longer a
window, but a computer monitor. On it was a flashing envelope, like an e-mail
notification, in front of a red background. It appeared serious; though Jon
wasn’t sure if that was deliberate, or if that’s just how the notifications
looked.
Damian approached the terminal and brought up the message.
“Deathstroke?” Damian questioned aloud. The rest of the team tensed up all at
once, and it was obvious why. Even Jon was familiar with the long-standing
conflict between Slade Wilson and the Titans; if he were showing up now, it was
inevitable that they would be the ones to fight him.
“What is the situation with Deathstroke, Robin?” Starfire asked.
“Batman’s sources say he’s currently hiding out in Blüdhaven after escaping
prison,” he reported. “But is making preparations to leave for Gotham to get
revenge on my father. Deathstroke is our problem,” Damian said honestly. “Plus,
Father has business with the League, and he’s not going to be in town when
Deathstroke comes for him, anyway.”
“Surely Slade must be aware of that,” Aqualad added. “He does his research. Why
bother heading to Gotham now, then?”
“Perhaps to set traps for Batman when he returns,” Raven mused. “Or, it may be
to draw us out.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Damian said conclusively. “What matters is that we have
our mission. Let’s move, Titans.”
Luckily the team was already suited up and armed from training, so the lot of
them headed straight for the jet still parked on the rooftop. The group of them
all settled into the jet; Damian of course took his seat as the pilot, while
the rest of them all took seats in the back, facing each other as if at a
table. The seating inside reminded Jon of what helicopters looked like in
movies, even though this was a jet.
Jon felt kind of awkward sitting around the other Titans for a few different
reasons. He didn’t really know any of them. But also, he understood that he
should be getting to know them better, especially if they’d be going into
battle together.
He was standing awkwardly, obviously trying to make a decision. In the end he
chickened out, and went up to the cockpit to take a seat next to Damian.
“You’re not sitting with the other Titans?” he asked as Jon took his seat, and
buckled in. The jet was already taking off, sailing into the sky towards
Blüdhaven.
“Nah, figured I’d come keep you company,” Jon simplified. It was a combination
of not knowing them and just...generally preferring Damian to most people that
influenced his decision, but he didn’t say that out loud.
“Alright then,” Damian said. They flew in silence for a few moments, then Jon
spoke up.
“So what’s the deal with Deathstroke? Is he dangerous? I know you’ve had run-
ins before, but I don’t know much about him.”
Damian provided a brief history of their encounters. He was extremely
dangerous; a mercenary with a personal vendetta against Batman, as well as the
Teen Titans. He was responsible for the death of one of their former teammates,
a girl named Terra that Jon wasn’t familiar with. At her mention, Jon heard
Beast Boy sigh, but he didn’t push the issue any further.
“We’ve got an edge on him this time, though,” Damian explained. “He’s like me,
Deathstroke doesn’t have any powers. It’s all just martial arts skill and
preparation; but he doesn’t know about you yet.”
Jon felt his muscles tense; his first mission, and they were going after one of
their biggest rivals, and he already carried the expectation of being their
“secret weapon”. It was a lot to carry; luckily, Jon was really, really strong.
From there, they just chatted comfortably. The group in the back was laughing
and carrying on at a combination of Kid Flash and Beast Boy’s antics, while
Damian and Jon simply talked the time away. Jon was also listening in on the
group behind him out of curiosity; he heard that most of them were all having a
good time with the exception of Raven, who sat silently. He suspected that this
was common for her.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jon asked, and Damian merely arched an eyebrow
at him. “What’s the deal with Raven? She’s so quiet.”
Damian said nothing for a few moments, as if considering how to answer. He
peered back and saw that Raven was sitting towards the back of the jet and was
unlikely to hear his response.
“Raven’s gone through a lot. Probably more than any of us,” Damian said softly.
“She’s an empath, and she can feel the emotions of the people around her. I
think that’s why she likes working with the Titans; overall, the Teen Titans
are happy people, and I think she relies on that.”
“She can sense other peoples’ emotions?”
Damian nodded. Jon chewed on that for a few moments; he couldn’t decide if that
was a cool power, or just kind of a sad one. Knowing how everyone around you
felt must be such an odd experience.
He wondered what Raven had read off of him; probably anxiety due to him just
being introduced to the Titans. He glanced back at the group, particularly at
Raven, and immediately made eye-contact with her. She seemed to have been
staring up at the cockpit, directly at he and Damian.
Chills ran up and down his spine, and he turned back to face out the window.
“What is it?” Damian asked.
“Nothing.” Jon took a deep breath, trying to relax; what if she knew?
The pair in the cockpit spent the remainder of the trip in silence; after a
while, even the group in the back settled down as they began considering their
mission, and what they were going to be up against. Jon did the same, and
considered this to be like one of his sparring sessions with Damian (though
obviously more serious). He had a general idea of what the combat should be
like, and knew it was unlikely that Deathstroke would be able to actually be
able to hurt him. Jon wondered if he should play more defensively, making sure
to protect the others rather than going straight for Deathstroke.
Soon they landed in Bludhaven,and Jon was the first one to be standing. If
memory served, this wasn’t too terribly far from Gotham, only about a half hour
drive. They would need to be sure to wrap this quickly to make sure he doesn’t
find his way to Gotham, and that he wouldn’t cause any more trouble than that
city already had.
“Let’s go, Titans,” Damian said. The rest nodded in unison. Damian landed the
jet in a clearing just outside the city’s limits, and immediately they all
filed out and gathered behind the jet.
Damian began sectioning everyone off into teams so that they could cover more
ground. First he paired off Raven and Starfire and Beast Boy with Blue Beetle.
“Aqualad, you’ll come with me,” Damian said. Jon reacted visibly; Damian didn’t
pair them together?
“Wait, it’s not going to be us two?” Jon asked. He knew how he sounded as soon
as it came out, but it was too late to take it back.
“No,” Damian said shortly. “You and Kid Flash can move the fastest, you’ll
cover more ground together.”
“You sure he can keep up?” Kid Flash teased as if challenging him. Jon shot a
look over at the speedster, who was just grinning at Superboy.
“Is that a problem, Superboy?” Damian asked.
Jon flinched; he was immediately reminded that this was Damian’s team, and
despite their close friendship, he needed to respect that. “I can keep up.”
“Good. Alright, let’s go, Titans. Radio in the second you learn something.”
The teams all split up, Raven and Starfire flew into the distance, as did Beast
Boy and Blue Beetle. Robin shot one last glance to Jon, as if double-checking
with him; Damian was smart, and he knew that Jon was a little hurt by not being
paired with him. But that was stupid, and Jon needed to get his shit together,
which he also knew.
“Let’s go, Superboy,” Kid Flash urged. He looked back at his new partner; he
didn’t know Kid Flash very well, but he knew that he could run.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The pair sped off towards the city, towards the section that Robin had selected
for the pair to survey. They had received the largest section to search because
they were the fastest by far; however, they were encouraged not to split up to
ensure that nobody was ambushed. Deathstroke apparently had a habit of that.
Kid Flash and Superboy began speeding around their designated search zone, down
each street. It was nice to be going full speed and have someone actually keep
pace; in fact from time to time, he had the sinking feeling that Kid Flash was
actually slowing down for his benefit. That only pushed Superboy to go faster,
and not once did the speedster ever fall behind.
Jon did most of the searching himself; with his X-ray vision, he peered into
building after building to see if they could find anything. After almost an
hour of searching, the two had gone over their entire area twice with no
results.
The pair stopped in the middle of a street, both starting to tire out from all
their running/flying around. They exchanged a glance as they breathed heavily,
and decided to take a moment to rest.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Jon said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“He is, somewhere,” Kid Flash insisted. “But if Deathstroke doesn’t want to be
found, he won’t be.”
“Then why are we searching so hard?”
“So that he knows we’re here,” he shrugged. “Ten bucks says it’s why we were
split off in pairs, not solo. Odds are one of our groups are going to get
ambushed, and then we’ll all rush to help.”
“Why didn’t he just say that, then?”
“Man, I don’t know. Robin’s weird,” he shrugged. “I trust him with my life, but
I stopped trying to understand him a long time ago. I just trust him, and hope
that it all works out.”
Jon was surprised to hear that; he didn’t quite understand the level of respect
his team had for their leader, but he suspected that he was beginning to. Kid
Flash put one hand up to his ear, taking another deep breath before trying to
contact the rest of the team.
“Robin, you listening?” he asked. Jon hadn’t been given a radio beforehand, but
he could listen in on Kid Flash’s if he needed to.
However, no response came. “Robin, come in.” He paused for a few moments.
“Comms are down. What’s going on?”
Jon didn’t like the sound of that. Kid Flash bumped his hand against his ear a
few times, like smacking the side of an old TV with a blurry picture, but still
no messages would go through on his communicator.
Jon silenced his breathing and listened intently to the area around him; he
heard Kid Flash’s crazy fast heartbeat and some distant traffic, but didn’t
hear anyone approaching them.
“We should find the others and regroup,” Jon offered. Kid Flash nodded,
agreeing that it was the best call, and the two sped off into the city. Jon
would cover more ground if he could fly up and over the buildings, but he had
been instructed not to leave Kid Flash alone, and vice versa.
They ran around for a few moments, but weren’t able to find any other members
of their team. They ran into Starfire’s and Raven’s district and looked up; as
Jon suspected, the two were flying overhead, getting a bird’s eye view of their
search area.
Jon flew up towards them, and Kid Flash ran up the side of the building they
floated above just to get as close as possible. Jon approached the pair, who
stopped and watched him as he approached.
“Hello, Superboy! Have you located Deathstroke?” Starfire greeted.
“No, not yet,” admitted Jon. “Are your comms working? Kid Flash and I tried to
report in, but we didn’t hear back.”
Starfire and Raven both tapped at their ears, trying to open a channel, but it
appeared that their comms were also down. “That’s not good,” Raven muttered,
stating the obvious.
“We went around to search for Robin and the others, but we didn’t have any
luck,” Jon reported. “Have you seen anyone?”
“We ran into Beast Boy and Blue Beetle a little while ago, but we haven’t—“
Raven was explaining. Before she could finish, though, the team all flinched at
an explosion that rocked the city only a few blocks to the north of them. They
all exchanged a quick glance, and then Starfire stole Robin’s line.
“Titans, go!”
The three that were airborne made their way to the site of the explosion,
though Kid Flash had already beaten them there.
The site they were greeted with wasn’t a good one; Beast Boy looked to have
been knocked out, and Blue Beetle was doing battle with someone right in the
middle of the street; the assailant was none other than Deathstroke in his full
armor, that odd orange and black mask betraying none of his emotions as he and
Jon’s new teammate went at it.
Kid Flash began running circles around the mercenary who didn’t seem bothered
by it; instead, he merely kicked out to his left and managed to make contact
directly with his side, sending him flying out into the street with all the
velocity he’d built up.
Raven and Starfire immediately charged; Starfire lobbed those green bolts at
the man, though they were easily dodged. Raven started tossing whatever she
could find at him; a mailbox, garbage cans, so on and so forth. They, too were
dodged, and a garbage can was even sliced in half by the man’s swords.
Raven kept tossing debris, and he’d begun jumping from piece to piece and
climbing into the air to get closer to the girls. He got closer than Jon was
comfortable with, and decided to step in.
His sword was lunging for Starfire when Jon caught him by the wrist and the
bullet-lined band across his chest. He pushed forward, disorienting the
mercenary. Through his mask, Jon could see just one of his eyes peering out at
him.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Deathstroke growled. His sword was still clutched
in one hand, held steady by Jon’s super strength. “Slade Wilson, pleasure to
kill you.”
“Superboy,” Jon replied flatly, tightening his grip on the criminal’s wrist. He
barely flinched, as if he’d experienced pain far worse. He didn’t seem
particularly bothered to be hovering four stories in the air, suspended only by
a Kryptonian who far overpowered him.
Before Jon could do anything, Deathstroke raised one leg and kicked Superboy
straight in the jaw. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered him, but he’d let his
guard down. It didn’t really hurt; but it did startle him enough to lose his
grip and drop the mercenary.
Deathstroke dropped like a rock, quickly plummeting towards the ground. Jon was
about to speed down and catch him when something coiled around his ankle; a
cord from some kind of grappling gun held by Slade. Suddenly it tightened, and
Jon was being pulled straight towards the ground.
Jon was falling fast, but still his power of flight had slowed Deathstroke’s
fall enough to save his life. Still he tumbled onto the ground, rising only
moments later. Jon was less fortunate; still caught off guard by his opponent's
antics, he was pulled directly onto the hood of a car, crushing it in the
process.
Okay, that stung a little bit.
The rest of the Titans continued their fight with the mercenary, which he was
keeping up with just fine.
Damian had heard the explosions and come running. He and Aqualad were less
equipped to travel vast distances like the others were, but made it across town
as quickly as they could. The sight when they arrived was pretty much what he
expected, with one exception; Beast Boy had been knocked out and Kid Flash
wasn’t fairing much better. Blue Beetle, Starfire, and Raven were all fighting
Deathstroke.
Robin had seen it coming; he knew that Deathstroke wouldn’t allow any of the
Teen Titans to get the drop on him, but by putting everyone in pairs, he
assured the team’s safety, at least for as long as it would take for more
backup to arrive. Now that the full team was there, they’d be able to take on
Deathstroke.
Jon wasn’t being particularly helpful, though. Somehow, Deathstroke had managed
to slam his ass into the roof of a car, and he was still peeling himself off of
it. Seriously? Super strength and like a million other powers, and he let
Deathstroke do that to him?
Then again, when sparring, he’d beaten Jon on many occasions; that’s what he
gets for being careless.
Robin drew his sword and leaped from the rooftop, slowing himself with his
grappling hook. Aqualad was close behind him, using the water from his tools to
drop down safely. The pair charged Deathstroke, who was more than ready for
him. Aqualad was kicked aside as his blades clashed against one of the
mercenary’s, and Damian’s clashed with his other.
Damian and Deathstroke stood face to face, not for the first time. “There you
are, Robin. I was wondering when you’d show up.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Damian sneered. The rest of the team backed off a
little as the two went at it; they’d all seen before what happened when these
two went head to head. It made it impossible for any of them to get a clean hit
without a risk of hitting Robin.
They’d done this dance a hundred times; Deathstroke parried each of Damian’s
slashes and vice versa. When Damian tried to trip his opponent, Slade would
expertly avoid it. When Deathstroke attempted to disarm Robin, he’d switch
which hand held his blade and continue his assault.
Jon finally managed to get up again, and looked onward at the fight taking
place. The two seemed evenly matched, and the rest of the Titans seemed content
to let it happen between the two of them. Even Beast Boy (who had finally
regained consciousness) was looking on; his stance suggested that he was ready
to jump in whenever needed, but none of them seemed to be in any hurry to
assist their leader.
Jon didn’t like that; he decided to give Damian some backup so that they could
take Deathstroke down. He rocketed forward, fists outstretched as his feet
lifted from the ground. Though he only hovered a couple of feet off the ground,
it enhanced his speed enough so that he stood by Damian’s side in only a
moment.
“Out of our way, Superbrat,” Deathstroke chided. “Can’t you see this is
personal?”
“Can’t say that I care,” Jon spat. He couldn’t tell what Damian’s thoughts were
on the matter, but didn’t bother to check before he and Deathstroke went at it.
Deathstroke played more defensively than he had with Robin, not fully aware of
Superboy’s capabilities. Jon lunged at him, knowing that just one punch should
be enough to subdue him. Slade jumped back, ducking and weaving as Jon’s
assault continued. Damian shouted something from behind him, but didn’t hear a
word of it; he just continued, waiting to get a shot off.
At some point, Deathstroke got sick of playing defense and brought a sword down
to strike at the Kryptonian. His reflexes more than made up for it, and Jon
caught the sword in his hand. He could feel the sharp edge pressing at his
skin, but knew it wouldn’t harm him; Deathstroke seemed surprised by it.
Jon tightened his grip, and the blade broke off in his hand. The mercenary
stumbled back, discarding the broken weapon and brandishing a gun in its place.
Jon discarded his piece as well, and raised his fists like a boxer.
He fired a shot off at Jon, who swatted the bullet away like a fly. Jon heard
the bullet connect with a car door across the street, leaving a small, circular
hole in it.
Jon hadn’t even noticed Damian come around, swinging from his grappling hook
he’d attached to a lamppost. He lashed out with his sword, which Deathstroke
blocked. He leaped up and sliced the cord on Robin’s grappling hook, sending
him tumbling to the ground. Jon lunged at the mercenary again, but now he’d
learned his lesson and instead ran to Damian, grabbing him by the arm.
He pulled Robin up by the top of his cape, wrapping one arm around his neck and
pushing his gun against the teen’s head.
“That’s enough out of you, Superbrat,” Deathstroke growled. Damian struggled
against Deathstroke’s grasp, but in terms of sheer strength, he knew he was
outmatched.
The rest of the Titans gathered behind Superboy, knowing that the situation had
escalated. Jon suddenly got the suspicion that, had he not interfered, this may
not have come to be, but it was too late to regret that. At least right now.
“Give it up, Deathstroke,” Blue Beetle called, pointing his cannon thing at the
mercenary. “You can’t get away this time.”
“Perhaps not,” he growled. “I wasn’t counting on the Kryptonian. I guess I’ll
be ready next time.”
“Then turn yourself in, Slade!” shouted Starfire.
“Think I’ll pass. It’s bad for business,” he said. He turned his gun on the
group and fired, his first shots going towards Starfire and Beast Boy. Raven
put up a barrier in front of Beast Boy and Jon caught some of the other
bullets. Damian, knowing he’d gotten his window, kicked off the ground and
knocked Slade off balance. It didn’t last for long; before Damian could even
counterattack, Slade’s hand rocketed out and grabbed Damian by the wrist.
He bent it over and Robin’s arm was twisted, bent out straight. Jon shot
forward, but too quickly Deathstroke’s hand came down, and a loud SNAP sounded
out from the teen’s elbow.
Robin cried out, and Jon watched as it bent at an unnatural angle; Deathstroke
went for his gun again, but by then Jon had reached them and tackled the
criminal, the pair of them tumbling to the ground.
As his head connected with the ground, Deathstroke’s mask flew from his face.
He was older than Jon had expected; wispy gray hair sticking out of the edges
of the black fabric surrounding his head, only a circular hole exposed to
reveal his face. One eye was hidden by an eyepatch, and the other was filled
with hatred glaring straight into Jon’s eyes.
He went to say something, but Jon didn’t give him an opportunity; he put a hand
on either side of the man’s head and knocked it back onto the pavement,
rendering him unconscious.
The other Titans were already attending to Robin. Jon quickly moved their enemy
onto the sidewalk before rushing back to his side to check on him.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Jon ran over to his friend’s side, who was already being attended to by his
teammates. He was silently squirming, fighting through the pain, though
refusing to show it on his face. He was proud like that.
Jon used his x-ray vision to check his friend’s bones, and it was definitely
broken. Luckily it seemed to be a clean break, but it would need to be re-set
by a professional.
“He needs a hospital,” Jon stated. It was obvious, but nobody else had said it
aloud.
“Well he can’t go in as Robin,” Starfire said. “And none of us know his secret
identity. What should we do?”
“I know it, I can take him,” Jon added. A few of them seemed surprised that the
newest member of the team knew Robin’s true identity, but they didn’t.
“Wait, he gets to know? Come onnn,” Beast Boy groaned, but Aqualad smacked the
back of his head. “Hey, watch it, I just woke back up.”
“Superboy, take him to the emergency room. We’ll meet you back at the jet,”
Raven ordered. He was a little taken aback; it was the most he’d ever heard the
strange girl say, but he nodded at her anyway.
Damian hadn’t spoken a word, which was very out of character for him. The rest
of the Titans gathered Deathstroke, cuffed him, and headed back towards the
jet,. Superboy helped Robin to his feet. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he growled, chewing on his bottom lip. Jon averted his eyes from
the mangled arm; it was really gross to look at, it made his legs feel tingly
whenever he caught a glimpse.
And he was obviously not fine. Jon knew from experience that Damian could
endure a huge amount of pain, but his face was turning red and he was sweating.
He needed painkillers and a cast immediately, neither of which Jon could help
him with.
The pair made their way towards the nearest hospital, which Jon had spotted
during their search for Deathstroke.
“Sorry, Damian,” Jon said. Damian didn’t look at him, merely forward.
“For what?” he asked.
“I interfered,” Jon elaborated. “The rest of the team stood back while you and
Deathstroke went at it, knowing that you were capable. I doubted you, and I
jumped in to help.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Damian said. His tone had softened a little; not much, but
a little. Probably about as soft as his tone ever got, honestly. “It happened,
and all we can do is improve from it in the future. You’d never fought him
before, and it was my job as the team’s leader to give you more information.
This was nobody’s fault but mine.”
Jon knew that, despite how he acted, Damian took everything personally. And he
would never lie just for Jon’s benefit; he truly felt that it was his own fault
that Jon wasn’t properly informed, and that was why he interfered. But Jon saw
the others, and he should have followed their lead, and he didn’t.
This was the product of Jon not really being part of the team, at least not
yet. But that was something he would sort through later; for now, he needed to
take care of his best friend.
“Uhh...Jon?” Damian asked.
“Hm?”
“I don’t suppose you have a change of clothes under all that spandex, do you?”
Jon looked down at himself; he was still in his full costume, cape and
everything. Damian was still in all his gear, too, and hadn’t even removed his
mask in case somebody saw him. Their clothes were back on the jet.
“...damn it.”
“It’s fine,” Damian insisted. Using his good arm, he reached to one of the
containers attached to his belt and retrieved a wallet. He handed it to Jon,
who opened it and retrieved all the cash inside.
He was briefly reminded of how rich Damian was.
“Go buy us a change of clothes,” he asked. Damian gestured across the street
where a small store was standing; they were only about a block away from the
hospital now, so it was pretty much now or never.
“Sure, be right back.”
Jon quickly ran inside and bought some clothes for the pair of them; a large T-
shirt for himself, a medium for Damian. He wasn’t sure of Damian’s measurements
for pants, and decided to buy shorts instead to be safe, as well as a pair of
jeans for himself. He also bought some comfortable looking shoes, though again
he wasn’t familiar with Damian’s size, but he made an educated guess.
He brought his pile up to the counter, dropping it all off in front of the
cashier. She seemed really confused by Superboy’s attire, but didn’t seem to
think it was for real.
“Cool cosplay,” she complimented. “Superman is tight.”
“...thanks.” He honestly had no other response to that.
His purchases stuffed into plastic bags, he ran back out onto the street, where
Damian was leaning against a wall. Jon could see him struggling to focus
through the pain, but Damian continued to insist that he was fine.
They didn’t have anywhere else to go, so Jon ushered the two of them into a
nearby alley to change. The smell was less than favorable, and neither of them
were particularly excited to take their shoes off in this gross place, but they
were stretched for options.
Jon went ahead and changed first, since that would be the easy part. He stuffed
his suit back into the plastic bag and tossed it aside; now came the tricky
part.
He left Damian’s mask on for now in case a passerby were to spot them, and see
him still in his gear. First he removed Robin’s cape, bunching it up and
tossing it into a plastic bag as well. After that came the hardest part of
removing Damian’s shirt; this was tricky for a multitude of reasons.
The first of which was that getting it over his mangled ass arm wasn’t going to
be any small task; the second was that taking off Damian’s clothing was
something he’d thought about a lot (under wildly different context).
Regardless, he pushed all that aside and started undoing the buttons on
Damian’s shirt. Unbuttoning it was the easy part; next, he helped Damian shake
the sleeve off his good arm, and then carefully began working the fabric off of
the broken one. It took a moment, and Jon was making sure to be very gentle,
but soon the tight fabric was removed with minimal pain.
Damian took care of his pants himself, for which Jon was eternally grateful.
Using his good arm, he quickly disposed of them and stepped into the shorts Jon
had picked out for him. They were a little loose, and hung low on his hips, but
for a rushed job, they’d do just fine. He also went ahead and put on the shoes
Jon had picked out, and those were a little snug but again, they’d work.
Jon then helped Damian into the T-shirt, and that was tricky. First Damian put
his head through, as well as his good arm. Then Jon attempted to stretch the
fabric around, but to keep his arm straight, he’d need to raise it straight
over his head. Damian was tough, though, and he did so with as little
discomfort as he could manage. The second his shirt came on, he lowered his arm
slowly. Once dressed, he removed his mask and handed it to Jon, who slipped it
into his back pocket.
Jon gathered up his friend’s discarded gear and shoved them back into the
plastic bags, storing them under the dumpster. He’d be sure to come back and
grab them later (and also made a mental note to thoroughly, thoroughly wash
them). The two made their way towards the hospital at last, back to their
“normal” selves.
The two entered the hospital side-by-side, Damian still playing the tough guy
as if his arm hadn’t been shattered in two. The hospital was pretty much what
you’d expect; bright, fluorescent lighting (though he noticed a couple of them
were flickering), and bright walls. Part of the sitting area was sectioned off
as their staff mopped the floors, so the rest of the room was fairly crowded.
It seems that they weren’t expecting things to be as busy as they were.
Jon wondered if any of the injuries around them were related to the fight
against Deathstroke, if anyone had been caught up in their mess. Jon hadn’t
noticed anyone in the immediate area; however, it wasn’t too crazy to think
that Blue Beetle’s explosions may have done some damage.
Damian went up and informed the woman behind the counter of his situation, as
well as the treatment he would need. He was very specific, and she probably
would’ve been impressed if she cared. She jotted down Damian’s name and asked
him to take a seat in the waiting room. He turned around without a word, and
Jon thanked the woman before joining him in his chair.
“How are you feeling?” Jon asked. Away from the group, he expected to at least
get a slightly more honest answer out of him.
“Been better,” he admitted, wincing a little as he moved his arm into a more
comfortable position. “It’s been a while since I’ve actually been hurt on a
mission. This sucks.”
“I’m sorry,” Jon said. It didn’t mean much; as far as Damian was concerned, Jon
wasn’t at fault despite the fact that Jon thought so. In the moment, though, he
wasn’t sure what else he could say.
He also had little to compare it to; as a kid, his invulnerability had been
pretty touch and go; sometimes he could take a bullet to the head without
flinching, sometimes he could trip and scratch his knee to hell. As he’s aged,
though, his powers had developed; now it had been ages since he’d been actually
injured.
Damian explained his alibi as to how he got hurt; he said that during the
battle, he was walking in a building when the explosion knocked him down some
stairs. It was a decent enough lie, and the nurses were probably busy enough
that they wouldn’t look too much into it. Jon wished he had his glasses to
avoid suspicion, but he had to make do with what they had.
“You’re going to need to take it easy after this,” Jon informed him.
“Tt,” he replied. “Not a chance. I can still help out in Gotham with one arm.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Jon shrugged. “But we’re not risking it. Even if it’s only
for a couple weeks, you’re going to rest. When’s the last time you took a
break?”
“How old am I again?” he asked. He didn’t smile, but Jon could tell it was a
joke; Damian didn’t take breaks, they both knew that. Jon wasn’t even sure he’d
know what to do with himself if he weren’t Robin.
“You’re 19, which means you’re long overdue for a vacation,” Jon said. “I can
help pick up the slack in Gotham since I’m in town.”
Damian was about to protest when a nurse called his name, and he was escorted
into the back of the hospital. Jon offered to go and join him, but was
dismissed by the older boy. He and the nurse went to the back, leaving Jon to
wait alone.
Only moments passed before a woman took her place at Jon’s side, occupying the
seat Damian had only just left. He glanced over and nearly jumped out of his
skin; he barely recognized her.
“Raven?” he gaped. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” she explained. She looked so strange without her robe;
instead she donned a pair of black jeans and a jacket, zipped all the way up.
It was ninety degrees outside but she didn’t seem the least bit bothered;
another thing that kind of creeped Jon out about her.
“W-What’s up?”
“You and Damian. What’s the deal?” she inquired. Jon blinked at her a few
times. What was she talking about?
“We’re friends...” he trailed off. Jon’s thoughts wandered towards his earlier
suspicions, knowing that Raven was an empath changed the tone of this. She must
have felt something that Jon wished she hadn’t.
“I gathered,” she said sarcastically. “What I mean is, what’s going on between
you two? I’ve felt things coming from Damian; stronger feelings than I’ve ever
felt anyone else drawing out of him. Pride, companionship, something else.”
“S-Something else?” he asked. “You’re an empath. Shouldn’t you know what
something else was?”
“It’s easier with context,” she explained, her gaze going forward rather than
directly into Jon’s eyes. “The same emotions can present themselves differently
in different people. What I might detect as fear in one person might be only
hesitation in another. Jealousy can be pride, and so on. This is one I’m still
feeling out for him; he doesn’t generally let his emotions get the better of
him. Or, ever, for that matter.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Jon said, his eyes downward. “We’ve known each
other for years, and we’re really great friends. He’s my best friend. That’s
all.”
“Is it?” she asked. She and Jon exchanged a glance for a moment, and it’s as if
he could feel her prying into his thoughts, his feelings.
She saw right through him.
“I-”
“You don’t have to say it,” she said, almost cutting him off. "I already know.
I was just wondering if you knew."
It was odd talking with someone who could tell how you felt; there were no
secrets to keep, and it’s almost as if she wasn’t interested in getting him to
confess. He suspected she was used to stuff like this, knowing what a person
felt and using that to know if they lied.
“Yeah, I know. And...thank you, Raven,” he said. “Why the sudden interest? Not
to be rude, but, we’re not exactly friends.”
“I know that,” she said. “We haven’t had any opportunities to be. This is more
out of curiosity for Damian. I’ve never...” she trailed off. “Nevermind. He’ll
be coming back soon, so I should get back to the jet. I was never here;
understood?"
“Y-Yeah, of course,” he stuttered. And just like that, Raven stood and exited
the waiting room, leaving him alone.
He felt himself start to sweat; he’d never told anyone about his feelings for
Damian. It was equal parts relieving that the secret wasn’t only his as it was
horrifying; now that someone else knew, that made it real. Even though it was
something he could never, ever act upon.
His emotional breakdown was cut short a few minutes later when Damian returned;
they’d worked surprisingly quickly despite the busy day (though he suspected it
was because of the busy day that they attempted to get him in and out as fast
as possible). His arm was in a fresh cast, and he held a prescription card in
one hand for some painkillers.
“They say six to eight weeks,” he growled. “This will be off in four, I assure
you.”
“Six to eight,” scolded Jon. "Come on, let's get back."
Damian exited the hospital, already annoyed by the cast now attached to his
arm. It was already itchy underneath, and that wasn’t going to go away anytime
soon. It was also too heavy; casts were made to be relatively lightweight, but
Damian hated wearing a watch, much less this crap. His hand was entirely
useless, and basically this just sucked.
The pair walked along the sidewalk, Damian grumbling internally about his
frustration towards the whole situation. Damian noticed that something was off
with Jon; he was used to the two walking closely side by side, close enough
that Jon’s shoulder would often bump him (he had really broad shoulders these
days). However, this time that wasn’t the case, and in fact Jon almost seemed
like he was keeping his distance.
“Everything alright?” Damian asked. “You seem quiet.”
Normally he wasn’t one to pry on anyone else’s business; but Jon was different,
he always had been. The two had been close friends for far too long; it was
less of an obligation for Damian to care than it was with other people. Damian
noticed when something was wrong when it came to Jon, and something was
definitely wrong.
“Hm? Oh, no, sorry!” Jon smiled. It was a forced smile; Jon’s grin was too wide
for the situation, and he just offered that sideways glare. Jon had long since
built up his immunity to Damian’s glares, though, and it didn’t phase him.
“Okay.” Jon took that opportunity to run back into the alley and grab their
(now stinky) gear, and the two continued their walk back towards the jet.
Most of the trip was done in silence, an odd feat for the two; typically they
had something to talk about (Jon often did most of the talking). This time,
though, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts the whole time, and that was
Damian’s job. He almost felt as if he should be the one to try and start up a
conversation, but he didn’t really know how, or what to discuss.
Before a decision could be made, they’d approached the clearing. They stood
between some trees, only a few feet away from the rest of the team being able
to spot them. Jon dug into his back pocket, getting Damian’s mask and handing
it back to his friend. Damian took it with his good hand, clutching it a
little. Jon withdrew his hand and motioned towards the jet, but Damian grabbed
his wrist, mask stuck between their hands.
“Hey, hold on for a second,” Damian said. Jon stopped, watching the contact
between them, but not pulling away. He looked at Damian curiously. “What’s
going on with you? You’re being really weird.”
“It’s nothing, Damian,” Jon insisted, but he was a terrible liar.
“Did something happen?” he asked. “This isn’t like you. And I can tell when
you’re lying.”
Jon just shrugged, and Damian released his grip on his friend’s wrist.
“Seriously, Damian, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Jon’s face didn’t budge; it was stone, suddenly, and for a moment he wondered
if this is what it was like to have a conversation with himself. Normally he
was the one all clammed up and shit; but now, it was him trying to get Jon to
talk about his feelings? Talk about a role reversal.
“Damian, I don’t know what to tell you,” he trailed off, eyes going off to the
side. Jon chewed his bottom lip. “I’m fine, really.”
Damian wasn’t going to get it out of him today; defeated, he slipped the mask
back onto his face, and the pair of them walked out into the clearing.
Everyone was standing at the back of the jet, enjoying the nice weather; the
rear entrance was open, just the large ramp leading inside exposed, letting in
the sunlight. Aqualad and Raven sat on the ramp, enjoying the shade, and the
rest of them sat out in the grass, relaxing. Beast Boy was currently a dog,
paws tucked under his chin, snoozing.
“Hey, they’re back!” Kid Flash announced. The group’s eyes found their way over
to the two walking over. “What’s up?”
“Broken, he’s stuck in a cast for six to eight weeks.”
“Four weeks, tops,” Damian insisted.
“Six. To. Eight.” Jon felt as if he were scolding a child, but Damian was
stubborn if nothing else. Jon realized that he’d been acting weird, and he knew
that Damian was stubborn, too; eventually he would try to pry it out of him
again. Just...not right now.
“Damn. Sorry, bro,” Kid Flash said. “Let’s get back so that you can get some
rest.”
Damian nodded, and the two of them made their way back onto the plane. Damian
insisted on flying, but at everyone else’s protest, Aqualad ended up taking the
job so that Damian wouldn’t try to fly one-handed.
The rest of them filed into their seats in the back of the jet, all strapping
into their seats. Jon helped Damian buckle his, who protested that he could
take care of himself, but was ignored. Starfire giggled at Damian’s protests,
and Jon cracked a small smile. He eyed the seat next to Damian, but the older
teen noticed him glance towards Raven, who had closed her eyes, as if
meditating. He hesitated, and then took a seat one space away from Damian.
It was starting to bother him; seriously, what was Jon’s deal? The two had been
practically inseparable for years, and now all of the sudden it’s like he wants
to keep his distance. Something must have happened that Damian wasn’t aware of,
and after what he’d just witnessed, he suspected it had something to do with
Raven. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it was something.
And now he was determined to find out what.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi guys! Thanks for all the love in this story moving forward :P Just
     wanted to leave a note and say how grateful I am for all the nice
     comments and kudos, it really means a lot to me. I hope you guys
     enjoy this chapter!
Jon was sweating.
Once they’d finally gotten back to Gotham, it took ages to convince Damian not
to go back out on patrol right away. He still needed time to heal, and if he
went out there, it was only going to delay his recovery. Once he’d finally
resigned himself to staying in his apartment, Jon received a text from an
unknown number.
Would you like to come out on patrol with me? it read. Jon raised an eyebrow at
the message.
Who is this? Jon texted back.
Bruce.
His blood ran cold; Batman wanted to go on a patrol with Superboy? It was an
odd team to say the least, not to mention intimidating. In truth, Jon wasn’t
too keen on the idea; but how do you say no to Batman?
“What is it?” Damian asked. He was sitting in the couch, his injured arm
settled across his lap.
“Your dad...just texted me,” Jon reported. “He wants to know if I’ll go on
patrol with him tonight.”
“Seriously?” Damian raised an eyebrow. He reached for a pencil which he used to
scratch the inside of his cast. “I didn’t know he had your phone number.”
“Neither did I.”
The pair was silent for a moment, both thinking over the offer. It seemed to
have come out of nowhere. Though they’d always been friendly, this was
certainly unusual for Bruce to offer.
“So are you going to go?” Damian asked.
“How can I refuse?” Jon sighed. He had already been planning to go out on
patrol regardless; with Damian out of commission, somebody needed to help pick
up the slack in Gotham. The city wasn’t exactly short on vigilantes; between
Red Hood (kind of), Red Robin, and Batman, there were all kinds of masks
running around. However, Jon would still like to offer help where he could.
Just...not like this.
He went ahead and got changed into his suit. It was still early—earlier than
Batman would usually get started. Since it was now officially summer, the sun
was going down later, which meant patrols started later. Now in his full suit,
he pulled his cape off to the side and took a seat next to Damian.
“I’m nervous,” he admitted to Damian.
“To work with my father?”
“Yeah,” Jon replied. “I’ve never fought alongside him before. I’ve only fought
alongside my dad a handful of times, and that’s intimidating in its own right.
At least my dad is friendly. Your dad is...kind of scary.”
“So I’ve been told,” Damian said flatly. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Kent. I’m
sure he just wants to see what you are capable of. This is most likely just
some kind of strange test he has planned.”
“Would he really do that?”
Damian stayed quiet for a moment, halfway smiling to himself.
“In my earlier days as Robin, he dropped me off at the opposite side of the
city from the Batcave. The goal was for me to reach the Batcave as fast as I
could. It was implied that it was a timed challenge of sorts.”
“What happened?”
“I was late,” he said. “Rather than focusing on my mission, I was distracted by
stopping to help people on the way. I didn’t end up back at the Batcave until
after sunrise. I thought I’d failed.”
“You didn’t?”
Damian shook his head. “Alfred told me that Father had once challenged himself
to do the same thing; in the end, I’d ended up being faster than him. He too
stopped to help everyone that he could, and it had slowed him down, too.”
Jon mulled over the story for a few moments. He wasn’t totally sure what Damian
was trying to say by telling it, but Jon enjoyed the story. It was a reminder
that Batman was human, and that he wasn’t someone he needed to fear—especially
since he wasn’t a criminal. Maybe that’s all Damian meant to do, put his mind
at ease.
The two chatted for a little while. Jon kept looking out the huge windows that
made up one of Damian’s walls, waiting for the sun to go down. Once it had
fully disappeared from the horizon, he stood.
“I guess it’s that time,” Jon sighed. “Wish me luck.”
“You’ll do fine, Kent,” Damian said. They shared no other words; Jon stepped
out onto the balcony, and flew towards the Batcave.
He quickly arrived at Wayne Manor. From there, he wasn’t sure how he was
supposed to get to the Batcave. He knew the method inside, behind the
grandfather clock, but he didn’t know if there was another entrance he needed
to know about. Surely there was one somewhere that he could use to move the
Batmobile, but he didn’t know where it was.
Jon closed his eyes, listening closely to see if there were any hints, but came
up with nothing. The Batcave was far underground, and most likely soundproofed.
He floated above the manor, pondering what else to do, but nothing came to him.
He opted to just land at the front door. Before he could knock, though, Alfred
opened it and greeted him there.
“Hello, Master Kent,” he greeted with a small, polite smile. “My compliments on
your suit.”
“Thanks, Alfred,” Jon grinned back. “I’m supposed to be meeting Br—Batman. Know
where I can find him?”
It only took a few moments for Alfred to point Jon to an alternate entrance,
one that would be better suited for easy access. He thanked the butler before
shooting back into the air.
With directions, it didn’t take long for Jon to find the cave entrance. He flew
inside with some hesitation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he feared that
very walls were booby-trapped to prevent intruders. However, as he flew on,
nothing exploded. Probably a good sign.
He’d never get used to seeing the Batcave. It was virtually the same as it had
been the last time he was here, but it was still an incredible sight. And, just
as before, Bruce sat at the huge computer monitor, suited up with the exception
of his mask. He was reading something that Jon couldn’t see from the distance,
but it looked fairly important.
“Hello, Mr. Wayne,” Jon greeted. Bruce didn’t react at first. Surely he’d been
alerted to Jon’s arrival, if not by Alfred then by some alarm system. After a
brief pause, he peered over his shoulder and nodded. He turned off the monitors
and stood from his station, grabbing his cowl from the desk in front of him.
“Are you ready to go, Jon?” he asked. Jon couldn’t find his words; instead, he
just nodded a couple of times. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”
The pair of them set out from the Batcave. Jon wondered for a moment if they’d
be taking the Batmobile, but it wasn’t exactly discreet. Batman seemed to save
that for special occasions, and a regular patrol didn’t seem like one of those
times.
But then again, this didn’t feel like a regular patrol. Teaming up with
Superboy was far outside the norm.
The pair quickly arrived at the edge of the city, where it went from the
larger, open spaces like Wayne Manor had to something more urban. The buildings
were taller and closer together, which permitted Batman to move around more
quickly.
“Where should we start?” Batman asked, peering over his shoulder at Superboy.
“You’re asking me?” Jon asked, surprise flashing through him. Batman didn’t
reply, or even flinch. Just peered over his shoulder at Jon, his silence
expectant. “Uh...okay. One sec.”
 
Jon’s eyes closed, and he focused his hearing into the world around him. Gotham
at night was no joke, vastly different than his nights in Metropolis. Just from
the edge here, he could hear multiple crimes in progress that they could step
in and resolve. He focused on one, what sounded like a mugging, and did his
best to gauge the direction and distance.
“Okay. Let’s start with this.”
…
Damian was losing his mind.
Knowing that Father and Jon were out there on their own was driving him crazy.
Not that they couldn’t handle themselves—far from it. However, the fact that
they were out there helping people while he was stuck licking his wounds was
infuriating.
He paced, as he’d found himself doing often as of late. He didn’t know what to
do. He wanted to help, and even though he was likely perfectly capable despite
his injury, he also understood his own physical limitations. And the harmful
effects that would come after if he pushed himself too hard.
But he wasn’t content to play an entirely passive role in this. He decided that
he would at the very least keep an eye on them, and contact the pair if they
needed any additional information or leads.
Damian retreated to his computer. Typing in his password took longer than he
was used to—he was ready to cut this cast off with a damn hacksaw at this
point—but soon, he was logged in and ready to go.
…
 
Working with Batman was so, incredibly different than working with Damian.
Jon felt like he was struggling to keep up with Gotham’s protector. He moved
through the city like water down a river. It was almost like he just knew where
he needed to be, as if his feet unconsciously carried him over every brick and
stone that made up the city’s rooftops. Damian was much the same, though to a
lesser degree—after all, Batman had been doing this longer.
And it was clear to Jon that Batman was used to having a sidekick, not a
partner. Jon had no illusions about them being equals here, as that was far
from the truth. For all his strength and powers, he wouldn’t dare go toe-to-toe
with Batman. Batman took the lead in every possible way: not only did he know
the city better, but in fights he was the first to confront any criminals, with
Jon following closely behind.
Jon wondered how it felt, being the sidekick all the time. Damian must have
been intimidated by his father’s presence. Despite being the younger one, Jon
had never much felt like a sidekick. He and his father rarely worked together
like this, so anytime he’d been Superboy, it was usually alongside equals. This
was different.
The pair of them had just stopped a brawl in an alley. It hadn’t been anything
too serious, and nobody had been seriously injured, save for a broken arm,
courtesy of Batman. The group of men were lying around, groaning in pain or
flat out unconscious.
Jon dusted his hands off on his uniform. He’d held his own better in this
encounter, finally getting used to working around Batman. After his crash
course with the Teen Titans, he was making a conscious effort to be more aware
of his surroundings, particularly in the case of teammates. He hovered a few
inches off the ground—but that was mostly to keep his cape clean; these alleys
were nasty.
“Superboy, hold for a moment,” Batman instructed. It was as if he’d read Jon’s
mind, as Jon had been about to retreat up above the buildings before he’d said
anything. Batman was walking towards the street, though Jon doubted he’d ever
actually go out there, but it seemed he wanted Jon to join him. He floated over
to Batman’s side, landing next to him.
“What is it?”
“I wanted to talk with you for a moment about Robin.”
...
Once Damian got his computer started up, even with one hand it only took
moments to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. It took a few tries to find
Kent and his father, but between that and the police scanner on his desk, it
wasn’t too long before he got a clear picture of where the two were. There
weren’t any cameras on rooftops or in alleyways, but some angles could still
show a small picture of what was happening. In this case, he’d found them from
a shot of a man being tossed out of an alley so hard he landed on the other
side of the street. It wasn’t much of a leap to know that Jon was responsible.
The pair stepped to the front of the alley, practically just their toes out on
the sidewalk. The camera was angled just so that Damian could see their full
figures. His father and Kent were looking directly at each other, seemingly
talking. Kent wasn’t too much shorter than Damian’s father these days, but he
could see his friend’s posture subconsciously lowering itself as Kent ducked
his chin a little.
It frustrated Damian that he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Jon seemed
extremely invested in whatever they were talking about. It felt very serious
somehow. As always, there was little to read from his father’s posture, but
Kent’s feelings were written all over how he was standing. Father said
something, and then Jon’s shoulders and chin dropped again, all at once. Then,
something even weirder happened: Father’s hand stretched out and grabbed at
Kent’s shoulder, squeezing affirmatively. Jon’s chin rose back up a little, and
the pair nodded at each other before retreating back to the rooftops.
What had that been about? It felt very private, intense even. The lack of audio
made frustration claw at Damian’s belly. Intellectually, he knew it was likely
none of his business. However, Kent was his teammate, and more importantly his
friend. He always kept close tabs on his teammates, and especially his friends.
Though he knew it wasn’t rational, the feeling that he should know—that he
deserved to know—if something was wrong was nearly overwhelming.
He thought about going out to join them. Surely Kent would berate him, and
Father would instruct him to return home, but his frustration was now a
writhing thing, pacing hot through his guts the way he had paced the floor.
Being trapped like a bird in a cage, no matter how gilded, had lost its charm
exceedingly quickly.
Damian started getting dressed. There were some parts of his suit that were no
longer usable due to his condition, but it wasn’t anything that would impact
his ability too severely. Once he got everything on, he grabbed his grappling
hook and his mask. Sliding his mask onto his face, he pulled up his hood and
exited off the way Kent had left earlier.
Damian knew their last known location, the alley down on 31st. It had only been
a few minutes, so they couldn’t have gone TOO far, although Kent in particular
could clear some distance. However, while Kent was many things, discreet was
not one of them. One way or another, Damian would track them down.
He quickly reached the alley where he’d seen them talking. From the rooftop, he
located where Father had connected his grappling hook, and used that to point
him in the right direction.
After that, it was a simple matter of canvassing the area, locating the little
clues left behind, and following them until he came across the sounds of
fighting, heat vision—something. It didn’t take too terribly long before he
stumbled across the pair of them, waiting on a rooftop. They’d stopped and were
looking directly in Damian’s direction, and he had no doubt Kent had heard him
searching for them. He consoled himself with a silent reminder that he wasn’t
at his best, as normally Kent would never see him coming.
“Hello, Father. Superboy,” Damian greeted. Kent looked up at Batman
expectantly, though Father stared only at Damian.
“What are you doing here, Robin?” His voice was critical, but not biting.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I am rested,” Damian insisted. “I’m perfectly capable. Let’s get going, shall
we?”
“Dam-Robin, be serious,” Kent stumbled, nearly using Damian’s real name but
catching himself. Not that there was anyone around to overhear, but it was
still good practice. “If you’re out here, it’s only going to slow down your
recovery. Or worse, mess your arm up even more.”
“I assure you I can take care of myself,” Damian narrowed his eyes at Kent
through his white-out lenses. “Your concern is noted, Superboy, but
unnecessary.”
“I’m not asking,” Batman scolded. “Robin, go home and rest. Superboy and I can
take care of this.”
“Father, I—”
“No, Robin.” Batman’s tone was final, brokering no argument, no room to
maneuver. In that moment, Damian found himself in a strange situation. On one
hand, he was an adult, and perfectly capable of making his own decisions.
However, Father was still his mentor and, well, his father, and also deserved a
level of respect.
Damian didn’t know what to say aloud. Instead, he defaulted to his frustrated
“Tt,” sound, if only to vocalize his conflict.
“Superboy, take Robin home,” Batman instructed. “I’ll meet up with you once
he’s been dropped off.” Kent opened his mouth as if he were about to protest,
his eyes flickering between the pair of them, but then nodded obediently.
Father had Kent wrapped around his finger, it seemed. Kent approached Damian
slowly, not quite looking him in the eye.
“Come on,” he said, gentle hands on Damian’s shoulders ushering him back in the
direction of his home.
Damian looked for any reason to protest, to insist that he should stay, but in
the end he stayed quiet. Without another word, he turned his back on his
father. After the first few steps, however, he risked a glance over his
shoulder.
Batman was already gone, silent as a shadow.
The pair of them made their way back across the city towards Damian’s
apartment. They were both silent the entire time. Damian knew that if he opened
his mouth he’d say something he’d regret, and Kent...well, Damian didn’t know
what he was thinking for once.
The two of them arrived back at his apartment, standing a fair distance from
each other out on Damian’s balcony. He removed his mask and dropped it on the
ground unceremoniously, the frustration from before returning in force.
“I’m sorry, Damian,” said Kent, softly. Damian didn’t respond, just started
peeling off his gear.
“You should go back and meet up with Father,” he said shortly, eyes focused to
his task, to anything but his friend. Kent seemed taken aback by it, as if he’d
been expecting a softer response. Damian knew he was being hard on him—really,
none of this was Kent’s fault, but his frustration was getting the better of
him.
Kent was silent for a few moments before wordlessly flying off to meet up with
Father. Damian made his way inside, getting fully undressed from all his gear
and back into comfortable clothes. He hated being stuck here like this,
especially after going to the effort of meeting them out there. Surely Father
knew he could handle himself out there. Why was he being so stern with him? He
knew it was basically his trademark, but this seemed excessive.
Damian was just getting settled when a knock rang out at the door. Damian
wasn’t expecting company, and most of his guests tend to enter through the
balcony, so he wasn’t sure who would be arriving at this time. Damian quickly
kicked all of his Robin gear into a closet, but retrieved his sword. His
visitor knocked again, and, Damian drew the sword and set it aside just to the
right of the door. Using his good hand, he unlocked the door, leaving the chain
in place to peer at his visitor.
“What are you doing here?”
***** Chapter 9 *****
“What are you doing here?” Damian raised an eyebrow at his visitor. From the
doorway, Dick Grayson flashed his signature grin before inviting himself in.
“Thought I’d come check up on you while I was in the neighborhood,” he said,
his shoulders brushing Damian’s as he passed in a gesture that, knowing
Grayson, was equally likely to have been either purposeful or accidental.
“Heard about your injury. You alright?”
“I’m fine, Grayson.”
Damian watched Dick take in his apartment, feeling a scowl tugging at his lips.
Grayson’s eyes traced the walls, the minimal decorations, before they landed
back on Damian and his grin stretched into a full-fledged smile.
Through no small effort, Damian managed to restrain the urge to do a double
take. Some time since he’d last seen Grayson, his older brother had begun to
actually show his age. Though Grayson would likely deny it until the day he
died, Damian noticed faintest strands of gray at his temples, as well as the
laugh lines beginning to crinkle their way outwards from his eyes. He was still
unfairly handsome—he always had been—but it was nice to know that even Dick
Grayson was merely human like the rest of them. A human who was aging
phenomenally well, yes, but a human nonetheless.
“What’s up?” Grayson asked, hands slipping into his pockets—the picture of
casual. Under different circumstances, Damian might’ve believed it. Instead, he
rolled his eyes and made his way over towards the couch, gesturing for Grayson
to follow suit. Once seated, Damian rested his injured arm across his lap in
the most comfortable position he could find. Dick sat opposite him, taking up
an entire half of the couch, his legs crossed beneath him like a child.
“What are you doing here?” Damian asked again, brows furrowing. “I haven’t seen
you in almost a year.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” Grayson sighed. “I’ve been busy with...stuff. It’s not
important. Well, it is, but not right now. It’s a long story.”
“One I’m not particularly inclined to hear,” Damian scoffed, noting that
Grayson seemed almost relieved. Whatever had kept him so occupied, he didn’t
seem like he was in any hurry to discuss it. “You’re evading the question.”
“Right. Sorry. I heard you’ve kind of been going through it, so I figured I’d
stop by,” Grayson shrugged. Damian blinked at the words for a moment before it
dawned on him.
“Father called you.”
Dick stared back at him, face not changing. It was all the confirmation Damian
needed. He didn’t say anything aloud, but Dick must’ve seen something in his
eyes, because he sighed.
“It’s because he cares,” Dick at least had the decency to look somewhat
sheepish. “Believe it or not, under all the brooding and kevlar, he does care.
He’s worried about you.”
“Why? It’s a broken arm, nothing that hasn’t happened before,” Damian said,
gesturing with his bulky cast. “I can take care of myself.”
“Your arm isn’t what worries him,” Grayson told him. Damian felt his jaw clench
and his back tense at the words, but he was careful to not let it affect his
posture.
“Then what is it?” he asked, making his words measured and clipped, watching
Grayson closely. Dick’s expression became thoughtful for a few moments. His
brother might’ve been a spy once upon a time, but that he was hiding something
from Damian was clear as day on his face. The obvious conclusion, then, was
that there was something that was going on that Damian didn’t know
about—possibly, even, something Grayson or Father didn’t want him knowing
about.
“I’m not totally sure,” Grayson finally said. “Well, okay, that’s a lie. I kind
of am. It’s weird.”
“You’re not feeling particularly helpful tonight, are you?” Damian scolded him.
Grayson just snorted, chuckling a little.
“I’m trying to be. There’s just some stuff better left unsaid, you know?”
They both went silent. Damian’s eyes were trained on his cast, but he could
feel Grayson watching him, no doubt trying to figure out what he was thinking.
It was something his brother was uncomfortably good at. Damian purposefully
picked at the edge of his cast. A meaningless gesture, but one Grayson would
try to pick apart nonetheless.
“So what did he say?” Damian eventually asked. “When he asked you to come talk
to me, what did he ask of you?”
“Just to make sure that things were alright in general,” Grayson said, then
paused for a few meaningful moments. When he spoke again, his words were as
careful as Damian’s had been. “How are things between you and Jon?”
Damian blinked a couple times, mind going blank in confusion. “They’re...fine?”
he hesitated to answer. “He moved in about a week ago. It’s been...fine so
far.”
“Mm.”
Grayson’s gaze was heavy, his words deceptively light. Damian didn’t need their
years of working together to see through the mask to the things Dick wasn’t
saying.
“So, he asked you to ask about Kent.” It wasn’t a question. Not really. “Why?”
Grayson said nothing in response. As Damian studied him, his body barely moved,
his eyes moving until they fixed on an invisible spot just above and far behind
Damian’s shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Grayson said after the silence had dragged on for several of
Damian’s heartbeats.
The lie was almost something tangible Damian could taste in the air. Grayson
knew, he was sure of it. He honestly had no idea how Dick had survived all
those years with Spyral. Before he could think on it any further, though, Dick
continued speaking.
“Why did you go out there, Damian? To meet up with Bruce and Jon?”
“Because there’s no reason for me to be trapped in here,” Damian was speaking
more to the room itself than to Grayson. His frustration at being sidelined was
still shifting slowly through his guts—quieter, to be sure, but not gone.
Admittedly, having Grayson there to draw his attention was helping, but still.
The reminder, even from himself, stung faintly.
“Is that all?” Grayson asked. “It’s not anything about you looking through
security cameras and spying on them?”
Damian paused. He realized belatedly that his mock-picking at his cast had, at
some point, become him actually fidgeting with his cast, and he quickly dropped
his free hand back into his lap.
“Tt,” he grunted. “How did you know I was spying on them?”
“Because I know you, idiot,” Grayson said without any heat of insult, smiling.
“So, what did you see?”
Damian didn’t see the harm in telling him. “The two of them were standing in an
alley, talking. It seemed serious. Father put his hand on Jon’s shoulder, and
Jon looked...sad, perhaps? Or embarrassed. It was hard to tell.”
“So you wanted to know what they were discussing.” Grayson sounded like Damian
had confirmed something. Damian didn’t say anything else out loud, but shrugged
his shoulders in a vague gesture he trusted Dick to interpret. “It wasn’t
anything too serious, I promise.”
Damian felt his spine straighten. “You’re saying you know what they were
talking about?”
“Bruce told me,” Grayson confirmed.
Damian’s mind whirled. Of all possibilities, that one had been extremely low on
his list.
“What was it?”
“I’m not telling!” Dick laughed. “If you want to know, ask Bruce—or better yet,
ask Jon. There’s no way I’m getting involved in this mess.”
“You’re here, you’re involved,” Damian pointed out, not caring if it came out
somewhat snappish. “Out with it, Grayson, you’ve got to give me something.”
“Not happening!”
“Dick!”
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t using your name.”
Grayson laughed after that, and Damian just sat in his seat, fuming. Logically,
there was no reason for this to be affecting him so much. Perhaps, he mused, it
was the way Father was acting. He had seemed so...supportive. The way he had
reached out to Jon on his own, how he’d offered Jon a spot on patrol—in and of
itself, a very serious gesture.
“What is it that’s bothering you?” Grayson asked. Damian shot a brief glare at
him before letting his glare slide into the distance. Grayson groaned. “Look, I
know not talking about your feelings is a Wayne family tradition, but I can’t
help you unless you help me first. Something is eating at you. Spill.”
“I don’t know.” The undisguised truth in his words surprised even Damian.
Perhaps Grayson might consider his answer a cop-out, but Damian was willing to
bet that Dick knew him well enough to hear the raw honesty there. Grayson
cleared his throat a couple of times, as if trying to think of what to say.
“Did I ever tell you about why Starfire and I broke up a couple years ago?”
Damian shook his head. He remembered hearing about it from Starfire while
working with her and the other Titans. At the time, she hadn’t known why Dick
had left, but he remembered she’d been upset. They ended up only being
separated for a few months before reuniting, and if Starfire ever found out why
afterwards, she didn’t share.
“No. Honestly, I didn’t want to get involved,” Damian said. “I still don’t.”
“Well, in this case, it’s relevant,” Grayson said. “I never told anyone about
this, so this stays between us. Okay?”
Damian nodded. Grayson looked legitimately nervous. Though he’d been telling
the truth about the inability of members of the Wayne family to express
themselves, Dick had always been the one of them with the least problems
talking about emotions and feelings. Always such a contrast to Father and the
rest of them. But now, he seemed hesitant, as if he were about to say something
really serious.
“I had a boyfriend.”
Damian felt his jaw drop, but found he couldn’t muster the mechanical response
to close it. Only recently he’d made the joke to Jon about Nightwing and his
spandex, but he didn’t think it was actually true. Before Damian could respond,
Grayson continued.
“It didn’t last, and no, you don’t know him,” Grayson elaborated. “But, yeah. I
left her because there was a guy I really liked, and thought I was serious
about.” He paused for a moment, chewing on his lip before adding, “Actually, if
we’re being completely honest, I had two boyfriends. Simultaneously.”
Damian finally managed to get a grip on his muscle functions, but his mind
remained empty of any kind of coherent response. All he could muster was a low,
“I...wow.”
“It wasn’t cheating,” Dick sounded almost defensive, and Damian suspected he’d
had this argument with himself before, anticipating it as a possible response.
“They were already a couple, and I just kind of joined in. But like I said, it
didn’t work out. We decided that we were better as friends, and they were
better monogamous.”
“This...is a lot of information to process,” Damian said. It wasn’t that this
was anything that would drastically affect his perception of Grayson, but it
definitely was a shock. The man—Damian’s brother, in name and spirit if not in
blood—whom he’d believed to be straight, had, once upon a time, left his
girlfriend to be in a polygamous relationship with two men. A sudden thought
occurred to Damian, names from old reports on Dick’s lost years—his time with
Spyral and immediately afterward.
“Was it Apollo and Midnighter?”
“I…” Dick’s face colored, and for a moment Damian thought he’d refuse to
answer, but eventually he nodded. “...yeah.”.
Holy shit.
“Okay,” Damian said. He didn’t know what else to say in this case. It would be
cliché to give Grayson the whole “I support you no matter what” and “I still
love you” nonsense, and that wasn’t really the relationship they had anyway. It
would come across as canned and trite, and that’s now how Damian expressed
himself anyway. Besides, if Grayson didn’t already know that, then he’d failed
Dick as a brother long before now, and repeating the sentiment wouldn’t do
anything to fix that.
“The reason I told you that is because I know what it’s like to feel things
that are...unexpected,” Grayson’s words were pointed, like he was going
somewhere with this. Damian blinked before he felt his eyes widen.
“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” Damian groaned. “You think I like
Kent?”
“Do you not?” Grayson asked, raising an eyebrow. Damian’s own brows furrowed,
confused and frustrated, not to mention caught completely off guard.
“No! That’s ridiculous,” he dismissed. “I’ve never had feelings like that for
anybody, least of all for that idiot. I—” Damian flushed and fell silent as he
felt Dick’s eyes boring into him. “You don’t seem convinced.”
“That’s because I’m not,” he smiled. “If you’ve never had those feelings, how
would you know what they felt like when they hit?”
Damian felt in his bones that Grayson was wrong, but couldn’t come up with a
valid argument against his logic. “Because you’d know when it happened,
wouldn’t you? Didn’t you?” he asked, trying to direct the conversation back
towards Grayson.
“Not at first,” he admitted. “Girls were easy. When everyone is telling you
that you’re straight, you tend to figure that part out early because that’s
what’s expected. For everything else, though, well, that can take a lot
longer.”
Damian chewed over the words. In truth, it had never been something he’d even
considered, especially with Kent. His thoughts went back to their recent
conversations: when Kent asked about Aqualad and then came out as bi, when Kent
had asked if Damian had a girlfriend. They were things that he hadn’t put much
thought into at the time, but he recalled the squeezing in his chest every time
Kent would be embarrassed or shy or just raw, so believable and forward like he
always was.
Oh no.
 
…
 
Dick said nothing, just watched his brother silently considered his words. He
could see the wheels turning, and didn’t want to say anything to interrupt it
all. After all, Damian was smart—one of the smartest of them, if he were honest
with himself—but his upbringing had left him woefully unprepared for certain
things.
This was something Dick had been watching build for some time. Damian and Jon
were nearly inseparable, and Jon was the only person who could so easily pry
Damian’s oyster shell of an exterior open—far easier than Dick ever could. Had
this been reversed, had Jon been the one talking to Damian about his feelings
for someone else, it probably would have wrapped up a long time ago. Jon just
had that effect on Damian.
Which is why it was so painfully obvious to everyone not involved how into each
other they were. Whether either of them actually knew, though, was anyone’s
guess. Blind idiots, Dick found himself thinking, not unfondly.
Dick knew that Damian probably had a lot pent up. His whole life, expectations
had been thrust upon him. Nothing about his sexuality had ever been discouraged
by Bruce, but he was a man with high expectations when it came to performance
and ability with their “profession”. It built an image of striving for
perfection, something that Damian had always done. And even before coming to
Gotham, Damian had been the grandson of Ra’s Al Ghul, and no doubt that had
also been a stressful environment that demanded perfection. Anything that
Damian might have viewed as a flaw was snuffed out or buried. Dick suspected
this was but one of many things Damian was messed up about due to all the shit
he’d been through.
“You alright?” Dick finally asked. He didn’t need to, not really, but he wasn’t
asking for himself. Damian was no expert on feelings to begin with, let alone
his own feelings. Dick could practically see all the emotions his brother was
sifting through flashing behind those dark eyes. It was the same internal
struggle had once gone through, though, admittedly, at the time he’d been a lot
younger than Damian was now.
“I don’t know,” Damian confirmed. It wasn’t the first time Damian had said it
in the past few minutes. Dick knew from experience that what he was going
through was nothing if not confusing, and it wasn’t surprising that Damian had
a lot going on up there. Still, he really was a smart kid. He’d figure it out.
Dick had to catch himself. Damian wasn’t a kid anymore. He was nearing 20, and
while that was still young, Damian had already grown up. Dick felt an
overwhelming sense of pride at his younger brother.
“What should I do?” Damian asked after the silence dragged. He looked at Dick,
and Dick’s heart broke at what he saw. His brother looked like a deer caught in
the headlights—near-panicked and unsure, two things he’d never known Damian to
feel, let alone express. He could only imagine what Damian was going through.
 
...
 
In all honesty, Damian wasn’t yet sure if any of what Grayson said was true.
All he knew is that lots of realizations were all coming together, and he had
this tight feeling in his chest he hadn’t felt before. It was a strange
sensation—not one he disliked, but was definitely uncomfortable. Some odd
combination of what felt like excitement and misery rolled up into one
confusing, tangled mess. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he felt a smile tugging
at the corners of his lips.
He fought it back, though. After all, Grayson was still sitting right there.
“I don’t know what you should do,” Grayson said, his words ringing with
honesty. “I’d say talking to Jon is a good start.”
“So let’s say that there’s at least a little truth to what you’re implying,”
Damian began. “If I did talk to Kent...what would he even say?”
Damian knew how it sounded. If Grayson were a worse person, he would tease
Damian endlessly, or hold this over his head forever. And he suspected that,
despite all this, he’ll hear a wise-crack or two down the line. But right now,
Grayson was the only person he knew that understood this—with the possible
exception of Aqualad, but he wasn’t there.
“I don’t know,” Grayson admitted. “From where I’m sitting, it’s totally
obvious. But...Jon? Who knows where he’s at with all this.”
Damian said nothing to that. Was it possible that Jon had been harboring those
kinds of feelings all this time? It seemed unlikely, but at the moment, nothing
felt impossible. If that were the case, Damian would feel awful about not
having realized sooner, but it was too late to correct it now.
“I don’t know what to say,” Damian admitted. He hated this—feeling vulnerable,
out of control. It was almost like meeting another side of himself, and he
wasn’t even sure how much of it was true or all in his head.
But given everything Grayson had described, and his own reaction to it all...he
had to imagine that at least some of it, if not a lot of it, was indeed true.
He wasn’t sure about any exact labels—gay, bi, and so on—but he knew that he
needed to talk to Kent.
“Dawn is breaking soon,” Grayson pointed out. Damian glanced over towards the
windows, seeing streaks of pink reaching over the horizon. “He’ll be back soon.
I’ll give you all some space.”
Grayson rose and moved towards the exit, arms stretched over his head.
“And before you ask, don’t worry: Bruce already offered me a place to stay
tonight.”
Something cold settled in Damian’s gut.
“He already knew all about this, didn’t he?”
“Well...they call him the world’s greatest detective for a reason,” Dick
shrugged, an uneven grin spread over his lips. There was a hint of something
devilish in that smile, and before Damian could do anything, Grayson had
crossed the distance between them and swept him up in a tight hug.
“You know I always have your back, right Dami?”
The old nickname, something old and personal, relaxed the anxious discomfort in
Damian’s belly for perhaps a fraction of a second. At least, that’s what he
told himself, when wondering why he allowed his arms to almost imperceptibly
return the embrace for a single one of his thudding heartbeats. Or why it took
him even that long to start attempting to push Grayson off of him. Dick didn’t
seem to mind, though, if the way he immediately let go and smiled down at
Damian was any indication.
“I’ll see you later, Baby Bat.”
And thatnickname, Damian normally hated. Especially at his age—he wasn’t a
child anymore, damn it. Still, even as he squawked indignantly, he couldn’t
find it in himself to care too much—especially not when it came from Dick.
Grayson departed, the door shutting gently behind him, leaving Damian alone
with his thoughts.
It felt like only moments later that Damian heard Kent touch down outside. And
if he half-rushed to see his friend, well—who had to know?
Kent—Jon—looked a mess. His hair was tousled from the wind, and he looked
positively exhausted. The sun rose behind him as he entered the apartment,
rubbing at one of his eyes, leaving his front half covered in shadow. The
yellow light breaking behind him made him look almost as if he were glowing.
“You’re still up?” Kent asked, and even through the shadows Damian could see
the smile he wore, tired but bright. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
For what he thought might be the first time in his life, Damian was speechless,
his breath trapped in his suddenly-tight chest. All of a sudden, he saw his
friend in a whole new light.
Now what?
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jon was exhausted.
The night had been nothing crazy; there were no psychotic supervillains running
around in Gotham (for once), and much like his last patrol with Damian, it was
really nothing to write home about. With one exception, that is.
An extremely uncomfortable conversation with Batman himself. Jon didn’t even
know where to begin with that.
For now, though, he decided he’d rather not think about it. He’d just gotten
back and dawn was breaking, and he was well past his usual bedtime. He’d been
expecting it; while he’s living in Gotham, he needed to get used to this kind
of schedule, but it was still a tricky thing to correct.
“You’re still up?” Jon greeted as he entered through the exterior door. “I
suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Jon rubbed his eye, heavy and tired from the night’s activities, and glanced at
his friend. He looked as if he was frozen, his entire body stiff. That wasn’t
particularly out of the ordinary, but something felt different.
“Is...everything alright?” he asked.
“Yes,” Damian said shortly. Damian’s mouth opened as if to say something, but
then closed it again. That really did catch Jon’s attention; it wasn’t in
Damian’s nature to hold his tongue. Jon looked him up and down again, but there
was nothing different at all except for his exceptionally stiff posture.
“Okay...then…?” Jon stammered. His conversation with Batman ran through his
mind again, but he pushed all that aside, trying his best not to think about
it. That conversation was one he’d need to sift through with a clearer mind,
after some time, a shower, and some sleep. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
...
Jon departed to go and wash the grime from the night away. Damian stood
breathless; he’d completely frozen. He was filled with all these expectations,
all this energy from his conversation with Grayson, and the second he saw Jon,
he realized he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.
Or, if there was anything he was supposed to say. It’s not like he could walk
up and ask if Jon liked him, that sounded incredibly entitled. And Damian
wasn’t sure enough about his own feelings to say anything definitively – at
least not yet. But with all that’s happened, he didn’t feel as though he could
just stay silent.
So what the hell was he supposed to do?
Jon shortly emerged from the bathroom, and Damian realized he hadn’t moved an
inch since he entered. He consciously tried to relax his posture, but it felt
immediately awkward, so he just made his way back into his bedroom to hide. He
didn’t know what was wrong with him; it’s never been like him to act like a
bumbling idiot, but for some reason, at this moment he couldn’t figure out how
to carry himself.
“You hungry?” Jon asked. He entered their bedroom with a towel in his hands,
still running it through his wet hair. “I was thinking about making something
to eat before I crash.”
Damian looked up at his friend. Now he was being deliberately cruel, or
somebody was. He wore only a pair of gym shorts, the majority of his body in
display and blatantly teasing him. Damian shook his head silently and busied
himself with his phone as if texting someone. There was nobody he could talk to
about this kind of thing; he’d already spoken with Grayson, and although
Aqualad was a great teammate, and a good friend, they weren’t really close
enough for this kind of information.
Jon apparently noticed Damian’s behavior, and took a seat next to him on
Damian’s bed. He kept brushing that towel through his hair for a couple more
moments, then let it rest around his neck. His hair was disheveled beyond
recognition, tangled and down in his face. Damian admitted begrudgingly that it
was a good look on him.
How quickly his perception had changed in just the past few hours. A day ago,
he wouldn’t have thought twice about this sort of thing; he’d seen Jon
shirtless a thousand times, and of course he’d caught himself looking. But it
was hard not to when someone was built like Jon! He was an impressive example
of male physique.
At least, that’s how Damian would’ve justified it. Now...he wasn’t so sure.
“Are you okay?” Jon asked. Damian didn’t flinch; he was finally coming down
from all the nerves built up after tonight’s ordeal, and tried to compose
himself with just the slightest shred of dignity.
“I’m fine. Just tired,” Damian admitted. That much was true; physically, he
could feel his body shutting down, exhausted, but his mind was too wired to let
him close his eyes. Jon didn’t seem satisfied with his answer, though, and
pushed the issue a little.
“You sure? You’ve been acting weird ever since your dad asked me to take you
back here.”
Damian blinked a couple of times. So much had happened between then and now
that he’d practically forgotten all about it; in the back of his mind he was
still a little bitter about not getting to go on patrol, but he really hadn’t
gone for the right reasons in the first place. He wasn’t out there to help, he
was there because something about Jon and Father working together without him
rubbed him the wrong way.
That did remind Damian of something he wanted to know, though.
“It’s just...” he trailed off. “While on patrol, before I went to join you, you
and Father were discussing something at the front of that alley. It looked
serious.”
Damian noticed Jon tense up immediately, and that was all the confirmation
Damian needed to know that it was something Father didn’t want Damian to hear.
“It wasn’t anything major,” Jon obviously lied. “Basically he just wanted me to
know that he was proud of my progress, and that he was glad I had your back out
there.”
Damian didn’t believe a word of it. Jon was many things, but a good liar was
not one of them. He had a hundred different tells, the most obvious of which
was that he wouldn’t look Damian in the eye. In fact, his eyes darted to
everywhere but Damian’s eyes; they bounced between the curtains that concealed
the windows in Damian’s bedroom, his own, smaller bed tucked into the corner
across the room, Damian’s ornate dresser with laundry folded neatly on top.
Damian watched as he tried to avoid the conversation, but something about Jon
being off balance restored just a bit of confidence back in himself.
“Kent, look at me,” he said. Jon turned slowly, peering at the corner of his
eye, and finally locked gazes with Damian. “Is that what he really said?”
“...yes,” Jon said. Damian bit his tongue; he knew it was still a lie, but he
wasn’t sure of a gentle way to probe it out of Jon. Normally he wouldn’t mind
bickering a little just to get an answer, but now...things were different. He
wasn’t sure how, and he wasn’t sure if things would ever be the same again, but
his perception of Jon had changed forever.
Jon decided he wanted to regain control of the conversation. “So who was over?”
Damian blinked. How did he know that Damian had a guest? Surely Grayson hadn’t
left any indication that he’d visited, had he?
Seeing his confusion, Jon elaborated. “Your sword. It’s unsheathed, sitting
right next to the door.”
Damn. That was an oversight on Damian’s part.
“Grayson,” he said. The name rang a bell with Jon, but Damian could see the
gears turning while he tried to put a face to the name. “Nightwing.”
“Oh,” Jon nodded. “What was he doing here so late?”
“Father called him so that he’d come babysit me,” Damian said. That much was
definitely true; he had a feeling that all they discussed was coming directly
from Grayson, not from Father. “We stayed and we talked for a while, but he
left right before you got back.”
That was the trick with lying, Damian had noticed; if it’s parallel to the
truth, nobody would question it. Nothing Damian had said was false, but it
wasn’t the full story. Bingo.
“What did you talk about?”
Dammit.
“It wasn’t anything major.”
Jon squinted his eyes, watching Damian closely. Using his own words against Jon
was a low blow, but it was a tactical move on Damian’s part. They both knew
that they were hiding things from each other, but neither of them wanted to be
the one to come clean.
They sat in somewhat uncomfortable silence for a few moments, both caught up in
their own thoughts and speculations of what the other was hiding. Damian had a
feeling; if anything Grayson had said was true, the conversation that went on
between Father and Jon would have been...interesting. And it’s the only thing
Damian could think of that Jon would want to conceal. After all, Jon wasn’t
usually the one with secrets. At least not between them.
“I’ll tell if you will,” Damian said quietly. He wasn’t one to compromise, but
the thought of letting this fester wasn’t one he was comfortable with. His
chest tightened, his heartbeat accelerated. He thought back to recently when
he’d been thinking about Kent, about how Kent was the brave one when it came to
stuff like this. Most of the time, this kind of stuff wouldn’t bother Kent. But
now...he seemed so quiet.
Damian wanted to see that Jon again.
“Kent?” he probed, as he hadn’t heard a response. He turned his head to look at
his friend and…
He was asleep.
He’d rested his head in one hand, elbow propped up on his knee, and he’d
totally crashed. A flurry of emotions rushed through Damian’s, mostly
frustration. They were that close to talking it out, but...ugh, whatever.
Damian guided his friend to lie down on the bed. It wasn’t even Kent’s bed, he
was still sitting on Damian’s, but Damian knew he couldn’t get him over to his
own bed without waking him. Plus, that seemed like a lot more effort than it
was worth, as Damian was also physically tired as well.
He briefly considered lying down in the bed next to Kent; however, given the
tense way their conversation had ended, plus what it may or may not have been
leading up to, that seemed like it was crossing a line or two. Yet he didn’t
want to go over and sleep in Kent’s bed, so he instead resigned himself to
going into the living room to sleep on the couch. Kent had done it a million
times, so he figured there couldn’t be any harm in it.
He laid down on the couch only moments later, trying to find a comfortable
position to rest in with his cast. Once he found one that would do, he closed
his eyes, and hoped sleep would take him.
…
Damian had felt himself toss and turn for ages, but he wasn’t sure when he’d
finally fallen asleep. Waking up, however, was surprisingly easy for how little
he’d actually gotten to sleep.
He awoke to the sound of something sizzling in the kitchen; bacon, he assumed
by the smell. It wasn’t something he indulged in, being a vegetarian, but he
knew that Jon enjoyed it. He wondered if Jon was the one cooking, but as far as
Damian knew, he wasn’t sure if Jon even could cook.
Damian slowly forced his eyes open, blinking in the sun that burst through his
large windows. It wasn’t uncommon for Damian to sleep in; between his late
nights and not having a job, there was little pressure to rise early. He didn’t
know exactly what time it was, but he knew it couldn’t have been earlier than 1
or 2 in the afternoon.
Jon had already risen. His hair was still a mess from the night before, but
he’d at least finally put on a shirt, thank Christ. Damian confirmed that, yes,
Jon could in fact cook (or at least pretend like he could). He was making a few
things, such as bacon (a lot of it, surely for himself) and pancakes (for both
of them). Damian hadn’t really eaten like this since he moved out, where Alfred
would often spoil both he and Father.
“Morning,” Jon greeted. Damian hadn’t said anything, but surely his change in
breathing or perhaps his shifting around had alerted Jon’s super hearing. He
didn’t respond, merely sitting up stretching his arms over his head.
“You can cook?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t reply, he just turned to look at
Damian with a huge smile on his face. He gestured to the kitchen around him,
showing the feast that surrounded him.
“It’s one of the only things I can’t do with super speed, or stuff won’t get
cooked right,” he admitted, going back to flipping his pancakes. “It’s
relaxing. I like cooking when I need to think about stuff.”
Damian said nothing, just let Kent go off on his tangent. It was certainly
understandable; it was clear to both of them that they still had much to
discuss, but given the gesture, Damian didn’t feel like spoiling the mood with
serious conversation just yet. Damian stood, scratching his arm under the edge
of his cast.
“It smells delicious,” Damian admitted as he approached the kitchen. “I don’t
keep bacon in the house, though.”
“I went out and got some,” Jon explained. “Pancakes are good and all, but I
have a big appetite. I figured you wouldn’t mind if I had some.”
“No, it’s fine.”
Damian sat at the table, and before he could even speak, Jon set a plate down
in front of him. Jon went back and made an identical plate for himself, plus a
shit ton of bacon on top of it.
Damian was torn; on one hand, he felt his stomach growling, as he hadn’t eaten
in a while. However, he also felt a weird pulling in his stomach, most likely
from the nerves from the inevitable conversation he and Kent would need to
have. It was uncomfortable, having all these feelings. He hoped it would stop,
but then thought better about it.
He forced himself to eat anyway, if not for his, then for Kent’s benefit. In
truth, they were actually delicious, and before long, he stopped having to
force himself.
“Good?” Kent asked, and Damian merely nodded through a mouthful of food. Kent
smiled to himself and chewed on a piece of bacon thoughtfully. “Hey, I know
things got a little...tense last night. I’m sorry, okay?”
Damian swallowed, then glanced over at his friend. Jon had stopped eating,
which was his first indication that something was wrong (if Jon stopped eating,
it was never a good sign).
“Don’t apologize,” Damian said softly. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us.”
“I guess,” Kent shrugged. “But I still feel weird about it. I’ll tell you what
Batman—what your dad was talking to me about.”
The two went silent for a few moments; it was uncomfortable, but they both knew
it had to happen eventually. Jon forced a little smile.
“It was actually really weird,” he laughed. “He-he thought that I had a crush
on you or something, and he was making sure that I would be careful. I told him
that it was ridiculous, but you know how he is.”
Tense air hung between them, and Damian said nothing in response. What was
there to say? Damian had suspected it after all that Grayson had said, but
hearing it aloud was...weird.
“That is weird,” Damian said. Damian noticed Jon tense up, and he just nodded.
Damian didn’t know where to go from here, but decided he needed to try
something. “It’s not like him to meddle in stuff like that. I mean, today has
felt awfully domestic, but I didn’t think it was anything Father would notice.”
Jon smiled a little at that, and Damian felt his chest loosen up a little. Did
it have to be so serious? Perhaps, for once, Damian should just go for it, and
be honest with Jon.
“Grayson said something similar when he came over,” he admitted. Jon looked up
at Damian expectantly. “He said something to the effect of me having feelings
for you, and that I needed to talk to you and work it out. And he was under the
same impression that it was reciprocated.”
“What is it with the people around us thinking we like each other?” Jon
chuckled awkwardly. It was a weird conversation, one most friends wouldn’t hit
with a ten foot pole. But there was something else there, now Damian could feel
it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.
Damian didn’t know what to say; he just stared down at his pancakes, thinking.
He thought about what he would say to Kent if he could sort out everything he
himself was feeling. He thought about what Kent would say if he admitted to
having feelings, if that’s what was going on at all. It was all very
uncomfortable, and too many unknowns for Damian to make any assumptions. It was
all very irritating.
Damian heard the legs of Jon’s chair scratch on the floor as he abruptly stood
from his chair, and rounded the corner of the table. Damian’s mouth fell open
to speak, but was quickly cut off by Jon forcing his mouth against Damian’s.
All the breath escaped Damian’s lungs as Jon leaned into the kiss. It was
unexpected, and Damian was by no means contributing out of pure shock. Neither
of them touched the other except for their lips; Jon’s hands gripped the table
and the back of Damian’s chair, and Damian’s stayed clutched on his silverware.
They stayed like that for what felt like forever, and then the second Jon’s
lips fell away, Damian felt like it had only been for a moment.
The pair were entirely silent as Jon’s face backed away by only a couple of
inches, breathing heavily after holding his breath for their kiss. Damian said
nothing, just gaping at his friend like a fish.
“I...” Damian stuttered. Jon’s eyes widened in horror.
“Please tell me I didn’t misread this whole situation,” he pleaded. “Oh my
God.”
Damian had no words. So this time, he reached forward and kissed Jon himself.
The last twelve hours of confusion melted away all at once. Damian stood to get
level with Jon (as level as they could be; Jon was nearly a full head taller
than Damian). Neither of them had much experience in this regard but they made
the best of their situation. Jon’s fists balled the front of Damian’s shirt,
and Damian’s good hand made it to the back of Jon’s head, trying to pull him
closer as if it were even possible.
Rather than staying there frozen, the two moved in rhythm now. Now, their
mouths broke apart together for air before diving back in, as if being
separated for more than a second would mean it would all come crashing down. It
was intoxicating, the sensation that both had craved but neither had imagined
would be this incredible.
They stayed there for several minutes, food on the table entirely forgotten, as
they stood there and enjoyed each other. Neither of them thought about the
consequences, or the conversation that would need to come after, just living in
the moment. Two forces that had long orbited each other finally crashed
together, and it was good.
Damian felt a vibration in his pocket, but he never broke away from the kiss to
deal with it. His immediate confusion was replaced with annoyance as he reached
for his phone and dropped it onto the table so that it would stop annoying him.
But it kept vibrating, and he realized that it was not a text, but a phone
call. Groaning as he broke the kiss, he reached over and checked his phone. It
was Starfire. He exchanged a glance with Jon, whose half-lidded eyes were
watching him so intensely. He apologized silently before answering the phone.
“What?” he greeted bitterly.
“Is everything alright, Robin?” she asked. Damian said nothing, not wanting to
explain that Jon’s hands were now wrapping around his waist, coaxing him to get
off the phone so they could continue.
“It’s fine. What is it?” he repeated.
“We have a mission, urgent from the League. We know you are injured, but none
of us knew how to contact Superboy. We need his assistance,” she reported.
Jon overheard, and his eyes opened wide in frustration. “Noooo….” he groaned
quietly. “Not now!” Damian just focused on the call.
“He’s a little...preoccupied at the moment,” Damian simplified. “Is there any
way you can do this without us?”
“No, his strength will be required. We’re short-handed as is with your injury,”
she explained. “Are you sure everything is okay, Robin?”
“I’m great,” Damian muttered through clenched teeth. He and Jon shared a
glance, and an unspoken message went between them; they had a lot to discuss,
and no time to do so. Jon sighed, and his hands unwrapped from around Damian’s
waste, and he backed up and ran his hands through his hair.
“Superboy will meet you at the tower as quickly as he can. Good luck, you
guys,” Damian said. Before Starfire could say anything, Damian ended the call.
They stood in silence for a moment, the gravity of their situation weighing
them down all of a sudden. Now, they had to think about what had happened;
their friendship would surely never be the same again, and now they had to face
the consequences of that.
“...I should get going,” Jon said, and Damian nodded. Still, Jon stood there
awkwardly for another couple of moments, cracking his knuckles and mouth
opening and closing as if he had something else to say. Damian took the liberty
of stepping forward and kissing him again – softly this time, more of a goodbye
than another passionate moment.
“We’ll talk when you get back,” Damian assured him. They still hovered close to
each other, noses only a hair’s width apart, and Jon just nodded softly. He
rushed off with all his speed, fixing his hair and getting changed. He got into
his full suit, his cape behind him moving a little as he opened the door to
step out onto the balcony.
Damian watched as Jon looked back, his fists balled up as he hesitated to go.
Damian could see the conflict in him; the battle between wanting to stay, and
knowing that the Teen Titans needed his help, and that surely people were in
danger until he could assist them. Despite that, he stepped away from the door
for just a second to rush over and give Damian yet another kiss.
Damian leaned into this one, as one of Jon’s hands cupped at Damian’s cheek and
the other reached his lower back. Damian felt his back arch a little
instinctively as the two kissed for a moment. Then, without another word, Jon
broke it off, turned and ran out the door, then leaped into the sky.
Damian stood there, flabbergasted. Despite all that had happened, the stress of
the past day had suddenly vanished as if it had never been there in the first
place. He returned to the table where he’d left his phone, and opened a text to
Grayson.
You were right. is all he said before locking his phone again and turning it
off. He didn’t want to see an “I told you so” at that moment.
Even though, admittedly, Grayson totally told him so.
Chapter End Notes
     FIIIIIIIIIIINAAALLLLLYYYYYYYYY.
     It took longer than I expected to build to this moment, but we're
     finally here haha. I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to leave kudos
     and comments ;)
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Jon didn’t think he’d ever been more aggressive in a battle.
Admittedly, the Teen Titans really did need all the hands they could get. Some
group of aliens had taken up shelter on an island out in the Indian ocean and
were collecting dangerous alien tech, and the Titans had been tasked with
stopping them. Fortunately, the species weren’t particularly adept physically,
but there were certainly plentiful.
But Jon was in a hurry; he’d waited too damn long to have that moment with
Damian, and now this? Bitter didn’t even begin to explain how he felt.
So he rushed through the mission as fast as was physically, and safely,
possible. He clobbered through groups of them, using his breath to knock over
hordes of the strange, reptilian creatures. In the end, he realized that he’d
done a majority of the fighting himself while the rest of the Teen Titans
watched in awe.
“What’s gotten into him?” Beast Boy asked. He, Blue Beetle, and Kid Flash all
stood in a group, and Jon could just barely hear their conversation over the
fighting.
“Dunno, but I can’t say I’m mad that we got somebody else is picking up the
slack,” Blue Beetle shrugged. “Shouldn’t we be...I don’t know, contributing?”
“Nah, let him have this one,” Kid Flash insisted. “Seems like he needs it.”
And he did. Though he wished they would pitch in more just to speed things
along, he appreciated the punching bags for all his frustration.
That being said, he did the whole mission with a smile on his face.
He couldn’t believe what had happened just in the past 24 hours. Starting with
that weird heart-to-heart with Batman, it all just spiraled into complete
insanity with it all culminating in kissing Damian. Kissing!Damian! The words
barely even rung true, like it was all some fever dream that had never
happened.
He, for a moment, wondered if all this was actually some crazy illusion magic,
or some alien parasite that made him hallucinate, but he felt it in his bones
that it was real.
“Look at that stupid grin,” Kid Flash said, and Jon could hear the smile in his
voice. It wasn’t teasing, just a humorous observation. “He’s so weird.”
Soon enough, the entire island was carpeted with unconscious aliens. The tech
had been documented and contained, and they’d called in the League to come pick
it all up so that it could be safely stored. They also would take care of the
aliens, as they would be promptly handed over to the Green Lantern Corps.
Starfire got off the phone with Black Canary, and confirmed everything. “It
appears that we are good to go,” she confirmed. Jon bounced on his heels’ the
group had all gathered on the beach, but he slowly backed away.
“Cool, so, um, sorry to bail, but I’ve got urgent business back in Gotham, so
I’m gonna...”
“Are you alright, man?” Blue Beetle asked. “You’ve been acting crazy all day.”
Jon was only a little annoyed at being dragged into conversation when he could
be flying back to Gotham to make out with Damian, but decided he didn’t want to
be rude.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Jon said. He could tell he was talking really fast, but
couldn’t bring himself to slow it down. “Just...yeah, really good.”
Aqualad raised an eyebrow at Jon suspiciously, but said nothing. Jon and Raven
locked eyes for a few moments, and she had this tiny, smug smirk on her face.
Jon said nothing, but he could tell that she knew what had happened.
“So anyway...peace,” he said. Jon didn’t think he’d ever used “peace” to say
goodbye in his life, but it didn’t really matter. He lifted off the beach and
headed straight towards Gotham City.
It would be some time before he got back; the Indian Ocean was hardly down the
street, but he pushed his body as fast as it would carry him. He thought at one
point he broke the sound barrier, but was honestly too distracted to even
notice.
Eventually, though, he did finally arrive back at Damian’s apartment. He
touched down on the balcony, sweaty and exhausted from the effort he’d put into
flying back so fast. He dropped down to his knees, breathing heavily, and wiped
sweat from his forehead. He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone totally
dry.
He looked up and Damian was staring at him, standing in the doorway and fooling
with the cuff on his shirt. He looked good; dressed nicely, nicer than usual,
at least.
“Are you alright?” Damian asked. Jon nodded, standing slowly.
“Just tired. And kind of gross,” Jon admitted. “I could use a shower.”
Damian stepped aside and gestured towards the bathroom, inviting him to go and
get cleaned up. Jon nodded and moved past him, removing his cape as he walked.
As he passed Damian, he paused briefly and considered kissing him again. He
wanted to so badly, and he figured the sooner they got back to what they’d been
doing before the interruption, the better. But Jon was a sweaty mess and
probably covered in alien whatever, so he thought better of it and went to get
cleaned up.
As per the usual, he didn’t take much time to take his shower. He rushed
through it, but unlike usual, he did take a few moments to fix his hair in the
mirror before he exited the bathroom. His appearance was often not a concern of
his, at least around Damian but now he wanted to look nice.
Once his hair had decided to cooperate, he decided to go ahead and exit. His
hand grabbed at the doorknob, and just before he opened it, he looked down and
realized he was still only in a towel.
It wasn’t anything Damian hadn’t seen a million times, but now that they
were...whatever they were, it seemed kind of inappropriate. But he had few
other options, so he just tightened the towel around his waist and stepped out
of the bathroom.
Damian was still there, but facing away from him. He sat at the table in the
dining room on his phone, texting someone, but Jon couldn’t see who. He thought
about walking over, but looked down at his current condition, and instead
quickly made his way towards the bedroom. Damian took notice of him, though,
but didn’t look up from his phone.
“Are you hungry?” he called across the room. Jon shrugged, but then realized
Damian wasn’t looking at him.
“I could eat.”
“Put on something nice, then,” Damian instructed. Jon’s chest tightened a
little; that would certainly explain why Damian was kind of dressed up. They
were going out to eat; wait, was this a date? It seemed weird to assume,
because of all the words he could use to describe Damian, “romantic” didn’t
really hit his list.
Then again, he’d never seen Damian in a relationship (not that this was a
relationship – at least not yet), so who knows what he was capable of.
Regardless, Jon decided that he would follow Damian’s instructions and dress
nicely. He didn’t have many nice clothes, to be honest; the only times he ever
dressed up was for presentations at school, weddings, and funerals, none of
which really seemed appropriate for dinner. Plus, he hadn’t even brought his
suit to Gotham, it was still sitting in his closet back on the farm.
He made the best with what he had; a pair of nice khaki pants and some shoes
with a button-up shirt. He rolled the sleeves up due to the hot weather, and
put on a watch he’d received for Christmas. He looked in the mirror and fixed
his hair again, happy with the result, and slipped on his glasses.
“Ready to go?” Damian asked. Jon exited their bedroom and nodded, smiling at
Damian. Damian also offered a small smirk, and the two headed out the apartment
together.
The ride down the elevator was silent; Damian seemed perfectly at ease, but Jon
fidgeted a little with the collar of his shirt. What should he say? Because of
the mission, they’d yet to have the awkward conversation that could basically
be summed up with a single question: what do we do now?
Jon knew what he wanted. He wanted things to continue, to spend as much time
with Damian as he could; he only hoped Damian felt the same way. From how
things turned out that morning, it seemed likely, as it didn’t feel like Damian
was interested in some one-off fling. However, he wanted to keep his
expectations low for the time being.
The elevator dinged, and they both stepped out of it on the ground floor. Jon
thought they were going for Damian’s bike, but instead Damian walked towards
the main exit; it seemed as if they’d be walking tonight.
The sun was going down in Gotham. It wasn’t yet night, and the sun was only
just beginning to set. It was a little late for dinner, but being the night owl
that he was, this was practically lunch for Damian. The pair turned left and
headed down the sidewalk, towards whatever destination Damian had in mind.
“Where are we going?” Jon inquired. He looked down at Damian; who simply looked
ahead on the sidewalk.
“There’s an Italian restaurant I like a couple blocks from here,” he informed
Jon, then went silent again. Jon nodded, and the two returned to their silence.
Although Damian seemed perfectly comfortable with the quiet, Jon fidgeted as he
walked.
He felt as though he should say something, but the street was crowded, and it
didn’t feel like the right place or time to let it all hang out. He wasn’t sure
where they stood; was this supposed to be a date or something? He kept trying
to answer the question in his own mind, but Damian wasn’t giving him any
answers, at least not yet.
They ended up staying quiet until they arrived at the restaurant. Damian
gestured for Jon to join him, and the two walked inside.
“Reservation for Wayne,” Damian greeted. The woman behind the counter looked at
her list, and then back up at Damian, smiling and nodding.
“Of course, how lovely to meet you, Mister Wayne!” she smiled. “Your table is
ready. Follow me.”
Jon glanced around the restaurant as the two followed the woman through the
restaurant. There were a lot of faces Jon recognized; mostly D-list celebrities
from around Gotham City. You wouldn’t find any big-name actors or anything, but
he did pick out the evening newscasters from Channel 9, a reality star from
“Real Housewives of Gotham City”, and a few he faces he knew he’d seen before
but couldn’t quite place.
The hostess seated them at a table near the center of the restaurant. The two
took their seats on respective sides of the table. The woman lit a candle in
the middle of the table and smiled at the pair. “Your waitress will be with you
shortly,” she informed them. She smiled and returned to her position at the
front of the restaurant.
As if like clockwork, a woman arrived and filled up their glasses of water. She
introduced herself and provided them with menus before departing again,
allowing the boys some privacy and time to consider their orders.
Well, privacy may have been a strong term. The restaurant was fairly crowded,
various conversations all pulling at Jon’s attention. His sensitive hearing
allowed him to hear what everyone was saying, but he made a conscious effort to
tune them out so that he could focus on Damian.
Speaking of, Damian had crossed his legs, one elbow resting comfortably on his
knee and his hand supported his chin.
“What are you getting?” Jon asked, opening his own menu. Damian hadn’t touched
his, and was just staring intently at Jon.
“Pumpkin Fettuccine Alfredo ,” he said immediately. “It’s delicious.”
Jon flipped through his menu, but wasn’t reading any of the words on the page.
His thoughts were too scattered, too distracted by everything going on. He
couldn’t believe what was happening. It was hard to look around and not
consider this a date, and judging by the odd, sideways glances by some of the
other customers, it seemed to appear that way from an outside perspective as
well.
“What is it?” Damian asked.
“People are looking at us,” Jon half-whispered. He wasn’t embarrassed or
anything, but he admitted that it was a little uncomfortable.
“So? Who cares?” Damian said. “We’re just having dinner.”
“We look like we’re on a date.”
“Are we not?” Damian asked. Jon opened his mouth to speak, but words evaded
him. So Damian did consider this a date.
“I...wasn’t sure,” Jon admitted.
Damian messed with his collar for a moment, and paused to take a drink of
water. “After this morning, I wasn’t sure where we stood,” Damian admitted.
“I...thought this was a good first step.”
“Towards what?” Jon probed.
“I...don’t know.”
They sat in silence for a second. The waitress returned and asked if they knew
what they wanted; Damian ordered his dish and Jon, not having barely glanced at
the menu, just agreed and got the same thing. She took their menus and
retreated back into the kitchen to put in their orders.
“We have to talk about it,” Jon said. Damian merely nodded, not even blinking.
“I mean...we’ve been friends for, what, seven years? And then all of a sudden
we’re...”
He wasn’t sure what label to put on it. Damian simplified and just said
“...more.”
“Yeah,” Jon agreed. “More is...accurate.”
“Insufficient, I think you mean,” Damian admitted. “But I...don’t know what
else to call it.”
“Me either.”
It was incredibly awkward, yet oddly heartwarming. It was verification that
this wasn’t just some random nonsense, that there was actual substance behind
all the shit Jon had been so worried about. He’d had these feelings for so long
now, and he wondered if Damian had as well, or if it were more recent. But that
was an intimate conversation, one he’d prefer to have in private.
“I am glad it happened, though,” Damian said. Jon looked at him expectantly.
“If you hadn’t done what you did, I’m quite certain I’d have never done it
myself.”
“That’s not true,” Jon said, smiling. “I mean, it had to happen eventually,
right?”
Damian smiled a little; a real, genuine smile, not that little smirk. “It’s not
exactly a secret that I’m...not an expert with this type of thing. Dating,
and...boys and stuff. But I can try, if you want to.”
“I do,” Jon said, probably way too quickly. Damian’s smile grew, if only just
by a little bit. Shortly after their meal arrived, and the pair went quiet
again to start eating. Damian was obviously enjoying his, and while Jon thought
it was good, he could tell he’d still be hungry after the fact.
“By the way, how was the mission today?” Damian asked. He wiped his mouth,
pausing for a moment before he continued on his meal. “Beetle said you had a
good time.”
Jon chuckled a little. “Is it safe to talk about that here?” he asked. Damian
just shrugged; in fairness, it didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention.
“I’ll admit, I was a little extra. I was in a hurry. Plus it was a pretty
straightforward mission. And, I was frustrated by the interruption, so I may
have been a tad bit aggressive.”
“Understandable,” Damian agreed. “I only envy I wasn’t able to go as well. I
was stuck to wallow in my own frustration with no means of releasing it.”
The pair chuckled a little and continued with their meals. The silence had
changed; what had before been stiff and uncomfortable had noticeably loosened
up, now comfortable and almost serene. Rather than trying to think of what to
say next, they let themselves react naturally and just communicate with each
other.
As they ate, Jon thought about other aspects of his life that would be affected
by this; he knew at some point, he’d have to tell his parents, and surely the
Teen Titans would find out at some point. Though neither of those concerned him
as far as rejection goes, it was a daunting task to bring something like that
to light. He didn’t envy Damian for his end of the bargain; should this go
somewhere, he would need to talk with Bruce about it. That did not sound like a
fun conversation, despite being similar in circumstance to Jon and his own
parents.
Though it was unlikely that Bruce would have overwhelmingly negative feelings
towards Damian being with a man, it still wasn’t a conversation that came up
easily with the kind of relationship those two had.
But Jon didn’t want to think about any of that. Right now, he and Damian were
in too good a place to spoil with thoughts like that. Right now, he wanted to
sit across from his sort-of boyfriend and enjoy his evening.
Damian was caught up in his head, too, and Jon could only imagine about what.
He didn’t say anything, though; he polished off his meal, and licked his fork
before setting it back down on the plate.
Damian was fast behind him, finishing his meal and pulling the napkin up from
his lap to wipe his mouth.
“Do you want dessert?” Damian asked. Jon snickered a little to himself; he
decided that now that things were sort-of official, he’d play with Damian a
little.
“Kind of.”
Damian reached for a dessert menu and glanced through it for a second. “The
gelato is delicious,” he said. He opened to the page. and went to say something
else when he looked up at Jon. Jon wasn’t looking at a menu, though, and
instead stared directly at Damian. Intensely, even. Damian tossed over Jon’s
words for a moment, and felt his face go a little red. “O-Oh.”
“Mhm,” Jon mumbled, that stupid grin on his face.
Damian cleared his throat, setting his napkin on his plate. “Check, please.”
Chapter End Notes
     Hehehehehehehe.
     So, slight spoiler warning, the rating will be increasing for the
     next chapter. You've been warned! Hope you all enjoyed <3
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Notes
     Whew. Okay, I'll be honest, I was really nervous to post this one.
     But I hope y'all enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jon wished Damian had just let him fly the pair of them back to the apartment.
It was a rushed, hurried walk back towards Damian's place. The pair barely
spoke, not even touching as they walked quickly on the street. Jon had a
stupid, shit eating grin on his face, which only grew the closer they came to
Damian's home.
The two burst into the lobby and headed straight for the elevator, ignoring the
fake-polite greeting of the hotel staff. Jon pressed the button to call the
elevator and, thank Christ, it opened immediately. The pair walked in, standing
side-by-side alone in the elevator, and waited for the door to close.
Jon had tired of waiting. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he turned to
Damian and kissed him. The shorter one was eager to respond, melting into it as
Jon's hands clutched at his lower back. Damian's arms circled around Jon's
neck, and the two both pulled at each other like they were trying to get
closer. After a few seconds, the door opened, but it hadn't been long enough
for them to reach the penthouse. The pair broke apart, still holding each
other, but locking eyes with a woman on the sixth floor.
"I'll...take the next one."
The door shut, and Jon just laughed. Damian smacked his shoulder and they broke
apart. Damian seemed embarrassed, exclaiming with his little "Tt," sound that
he did.
"No more of that until we're in a private setting," Damian insisted. Jon wasn't
willing to argue on it, at least not now, so he just nodded, still grinning
like an idiot.
Soon the pair both reached the penthouse, and Damian swiftly let them both in.
Jon walked further into the apartment, glancing around as Damian locked the
door behind them. Just as Jon turned, Damian practically pounced on him, their
lips crashing together again.
Damian was less reserved this time; now that they were in private, it reminded
Jon more of their kisses this morning. It was passionate, unreserved, and to
most people, very unlike Damian.
It was like he'd been pent up his whole life, Jon mused. He'd never been with
anyone, and Jon had never received any inkling that he'd wanted to, but it was
like all of a sudden it was all Damian wanted. Jon was hesitant to have sex
with Damian so quickly; whatever this was was still very new, but he wasn't too
keen on messing that up.
Still...if Damian wanted to, he wasn't sure he could bring himself to say no.
The two broke apart from their kiss, panting. Jon's eyes had fallen shut, and
his forehead rested against Damian's as the two breathed. Jon opened his eyes
and Damian was staring back at him, pupils blown wide, but he was smiling.
Really smiling, and it was so refreshing to see.
Damian lightly pulled at the buttons of Jon's shirt a little, more asking Jon
to do it than removing it himself. Damian wasn't quite sure what had come over
him; for a second, he wondered if Poison Ivy had somehow sneaked into the
restaurant and put something in his food, but at the moment he couldn't bring
himself to care. He was with Jon, and Jon was so hot and so amazing, and all he
wanted was to be close to him.
Jon finally conceded (as if it was a struggle), and started undoing the top few
buttons on his shirt. Slowly more and more skin opened up to Damian's view, and
he took the reins from there. He kissed Jon again, and moving Jon's hands out
of the way to deal with the buttons himself. The pair continued and soon, the
buttons were entirely undone, leaving the entirety of Jon's chest and stomach
exposed.
Damian thought he was about to take it off altogether when instead, Jon hoisted
Damian into the air and held him up by his thighs.
Damian laughed a little and wrapped his legs around Jon's waist, arms again
finding their way around Jon's neck as the two continued kissing. Damian's eyes
had closed, so he didn't see where he was going, but he could feel Jon moving
them towards the bedroom.
Jon laid Damian down gently on his back on the bed, and the pair scooted back
as Jon crawled on top of them. Either side of his shirt fell down, flanking
Damian's body as the two continued kissing.
Damian felt himself lose control of the situation, something that surprised him
a little. He grabbed the shoulders of Jon's shirt, pulling the shirt back. He
did it quickly and Jon's hands were moved, but before he could fall on top of
Damian, Damian, flipped the two over so that Jon was on his back instead.
"Hey," Jon panted, grinning up at Damian. Damian examined Jon's hands, "bound"
behind his back, as if he couldn't tear through that shirt in a second. It
didn't last for long; he didn't tear it, but Jon quickly freed his hands from
the bundled up shirt and tossed it aside.
Damian straddled Jon, keens planted on either side of the younger one's hips.
He sat back on his haunches, taking in the sight before him. Jon reached up to
pry off his glasses and set them aside on the nightstand, stretching to reach
without moving Damian from on top of him. The muscles on his body contracted
and stretched to make the distance, and Damian took in every inch of it. He
couldn't believe how built Jon had gotten, and without a day of actual
exercising at a gym or something. He supposed there was something about
Kryptonian genetics, or maybe their whole deal with the Sun that just made them
jacked.
Not that Damian was in any way self-conscious about his own body; through
training every day, he too had created an impressive physique for himself. The
two were on opposite ends of the spectrum; Damian had definition, Jon had bulk.
Speaking of, Jon had grown tired of being the only one shirtless. Damian
quickly disposed of his blazer and started fumbling with the buttons, and that
too was discarded off to the side. He bent down and their lips connected again,
and Damian felt the heat between them as skin connected with skin. Jon was like
a furnace, the temperature seeming to rise by several degrees as their chests
made contact.
Jon's hands traveled up and down Damian's sides, and though it didn't tickle,
he felt himself shiver in anticipation. Damian's hands were clutched on either
side of Jon's neck, not choking, but taking hold to keep Jon interested.
Jon took a squeeze at Damian's ass, and he moaned softly in response. Damian
had never made that noise in his entire life, and felt his face heat up. His
eyes traveled back down to Jon, whose face had also gone red, but he suspected
for an entirely different reason.
"Oh," Damian said. It was in no way an appropriate response to what had just
happened, but there was little else that he could think of to say.
They went back to kissing for a while longer. It started to get kind of stale;
Jon's hands had rested on Jon's hips, grabbing firmly as their bodies pressed
against each other. Damian wanted to switch it up a little; as fun as this was,
he was ready to try something else.
He broke the kiss and moved down towards Jon's neck, latching his mouth onto
the thick muscle between Jon's shoulder and his neck. This time, Jon was the
one moaning as a hand came up to grab at the hair on the back of Damian's head.
Damian didn't quite know what he was doing, but if Jon liked it, he was happy
to keep it up.
It briefly occurred to him that he probably couldn't give Jon a hickey if he
tried.
Jon seemed extremely into that, and Damian took that as a clue to keep going.
He broke off for a moment and reattached himself a few inches higher, now
directly onto Jon's neck, and again he pulled a moan from him.
Jon had had quite enough of being on the bottom, though. He flipped them back
over, Jon hovering over Damian. A shadow fell on his face and Damian looked up,
their eyes locking for the first time in several minutes.
Jon's eyes were on fire. Not, like, heat vision fire, but there was something
there Jon was holding back. Damian was briefly reminded of Jon's strength, and
how easy it would be for him to hurt Damian. Damian reached up to touch Jon's
face, cupping his cheek for a second. It had all slowed down so quickly, from
heated and passionate to soft and compassionate.
Then Jon had had enough of it. His hand gripped harder on Damian's wrist, and
quickly pinned it above Damian's head. He pushed Damian's other arm - the one
trapped in a cast - aside more gently, urging Damian to keep that one out of
his way himself.
Damian squirmed against Jon, arm struggling to budge under Jon's grip. But Jon
didn't seem too bothered by it. After all, he now had Damian in an extremely
exposed position. Damian squirmed again against Jon's strength to no avail,
held in place both by his hand and his hips.
It was Jon's turn to nip at him, Damian realized. Unable to move, Jon took his
time, first placing kisses along Damian's neck and down to his shoulder. They
were gentler than Damian's were, he noticed; Damian could bruise, and visible
marks could be seen all over him.
Damian felt Jon's eyes examine him closely, as if he were under a microscope.
Damian watched his eyes trace over every mark on his chest and stomach,
hovering longer over the large, thicker scar across his stomach. Damian felt
the spot start to itch under Jon's gaze, as well as the one on his back that
mirrored it where the sword went through.
"You want to continue?" Jon asked. Damian nodded without hesitation, and Jon
smiled. He planted another kiss below Damian's belly button, and Damian felt
another little sound slip out of him as Jon fumbled with the button on Damian's
slacks.
Undone, Damian raised his hips instinctively as Jon started to slide them down.
The fabric brushed on his thighs, then his calves, until they gathered around
his ankles. Jon didn't move them for a moment, but then Damian lifted his feet
so that Jon could slide them off entirely. Damian heard them hit the ground as
Jon tossed them away.
Jon was still just shirtless, but Damian was only one layer of fabric from
baring it all to Jon. Jon didn't seem the least bit bothered by that, pausing
again to get a good look at Damian in this state. He was nervous, and he
thought Jon could tell - this was both of their first time. But something about
finally getting to do this, and being the one in control had put Jon at ease.
Damian was not used to being out of control - but he'd get used to it.
Damian was also very aware of a side effect of their current situation - the
erection that Jon was currently getting an eyeful of. The head of his dick
nearly stuck out of the waistband of his underwear, straining against the
stretchy material, begging to be released. Jon took in the sight, and took a
long, heavy breath.
Jon didn't remove his underwear, but did grab at the bulge rather roughly.
Damian moaned as his hand made contact, fingers squeezing around the shape of
it, only just barely moving. Damian felt himself start to sweat as the
sensation intensified, Jon now squeezing his hand tighter and starting to move
it. Damian moaned again, turning his head to bury it in the crook of his arm,
still pinned above his head by Jon's hand.
"Feel good?" Jon asked sarcastically. It was obvious to both of them how he was
making Damian feel by the way he squirmed, and the sounds he was making.
Regardless, Damian nodded a little. "You look incredible like this."
Jon moved up to kiss Damian again, who ate it hungrily, and gasped a little as
Jon's hand slid under the waistband, grabbing him fully. His breath hitched and
his head rocked back, eyes closed.
"F-Fuck," Damian muttered, biting his lower lip. Jon smirked and continued
pulling at Damian's cock, the sounds out of Damian growing increasingly louder
by the second.
Jon had grown tired of the obstruction and quickly removed Damian's underwear,
tossing it aside to join the rest of his clothes. He stayed even with Damian,
not breaking eye contact with him as he quickened his pace, Damian becoming a
mess under his gaze.
"Stop, stop, stop," Damian urged. He felt himself getting close, and urged Jon
to stop before it was too late.
"Is something wrong?" Jon asked, suddenly nervous.
"No, it's just..." Damian trailed off. "You're not even naked yet."
Jon blinked down at him a couple times. He looked down at himself, only just
then remembering. He was painfully aware of his own erection straining against
his slacks, and groaned a little as he palmed at it through the fabric.
"Excellent point," Jon smirked, kissing Damian quickly. He released his grip on
both Damian's wrist and cock, standing at the side of the bed.
He swiftly unbuttoned his pants and slid them down, kicking them aside with his
right food. He grabbed at himself again as Damian shifted on his side to more
comfortably face Jon, to watch as he got undressed.
Damian's eyes fell on the massive bulge, barely constricted by the tight
underwear.
"Damn. Is that a Kryptonian thing?" Damian teased.
"Ha ha," Jon laughed sarcastically. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."
"Hey, I'm not the one with a yellow sun powering my dick."
Jon laughed for real this time and slid the briefs down his legs, and kicked
them off to the side as well. He formed a fist around his cock, pumping a few
times as he crawled back onto the bed. Damian rolled onto his back again,
suddenly more comfortable being on the bottom, and Jon crawled on top to
straddle him. The two kissed again, the room suddenly falling quiet except for
the tiny sounds made between them. Jon lowered his hips, grinding his dick into
Damian's, and the two moaned in harmony.
Jon's large hand wrapped around them both, squeezing and thrusting a little
into it. Damian's eyes rolled into the back of his head; the sensation itself
wasn't all that different from what Jon was doing only moments before, but it
was so much hotter.
This went on for a couple of minutes. The pace had slowed down from what Damian
had been subjected to before, so his quickly approaching orgasm had backed off,
even if only by a little. He was still straining to keep it back - he didn't
want it to end so quickly, it would be embarrassing. But his eyes traveled up
to Jon who was also sweating now.
"You're getting close, aren't you?" Damian asked. Jon nodded silently, never
breaking eye contact with Damian, and grunted a little bit.
Damian's good hand raised from the bed and slipped under Jon's hand, grabbing
at Jon's cock. He moaned brokenly, It was an odd sensation; the weight of Jon's
dick was heavy in Damian's hand, and he cupped the bottom half of it and slid
his hand back and forth, feeling the skin shift along with it. He realized that
Jon was uncut - figures, considering they probably didn't want to risk a doctor
going to circumcise him and break the tool on potentially unbreakable skin.
"Do you want to..." Damian trailed off. He didn't want to say it out loud for
some reason, but he felt obligated to offer to have sex with Jon.
"Do you have lube and condoms on hand?" Jon asked. Damian shook his head. "Not
tonight, then."
Damian didn't complain - now that he's seen Jon below the waist, he wasn't in
any hurry to try tackling that tonight. Especially without lube, which would
basically be a death sentence.
Damian squeezed Jon's dick, breaking the silence with another moan from Jon.
Damian could feel him getting close now - as he stroked at Jon, his hand would
brush at the balls at the base of his cock, and he felt them tighten up closer
to Jon's body. It wouldn't be long now.
"I'm gonna...Damian, I'm...!" he stammered. Jon made a purely indescribable
sound as he came, hot cum shooting out. It barely got on Damian's chest or
stomach, but striped along the length of his arm he'd outstretched to grab at
Jon. He continued to stroke Jon as he bottomed out, now shaking as he hovered
above Damian. His breathing was ragged, shaky, but his face was entirely
content.
Damian removed his hand to deal with himself - still impossibly close,
especially now with what had just happened. As soon as his fingers made contact
with his own cock, Jon smacked them away and grabbed at Damian. He formed a
fist around it, pumping his hand up and down, tightly squeezing Damian and
bringing him ever closer to the edge.
Damian thrust up off the bed, trying to match time with Jon but failing to
reach his fast pace. His breaths became shallow and quick, and soon stopped as
he cried out and he too came, his spattering across both Jon's and his own
chest.
Jon followed Damian's lead and continued to stroke him as he came down, and
slowly his breaths became deep and normal again. The pair of them were a
sweaty, and now sticky, gross mess, and they were both out of breath. Jon,
exhausted, rolled off to one side and onto his back, lying side-by-side with
Damian.
The reality of their situation started to dawn on them both at the same time.
Jon was the first to laugh, although it mostly came out in chuckles between his
heavy breaths.
"Something funny?" Damian asked, wiping sweat from off his forehead. Jon smiled
and leaned over to kiss Damian. Damian only returned it for a moment before
breaking apart again to keep breathing deeply.
"Just happy," Jon smiled. Damian rolled his eyes.
"You're such a sap, Kent," Damian teased. "I can't believe this happened."
"I know," Jon smiled. They both just stared up at the ceiling, the fan above
them spinning slowly, barely cooling the heat that had been generated by their
bodies.
Damian looked down at himself, examining the fluid he was now practically
covered in. It was starting to run - if he didn't move soon, it would be all
over the sheets, and that was not a mess he felt like cleaning up.
"I'm going to get us a towel," Damian said. He stood and rushed over towards
his clothes hamper and retrieved a dirty towel, the one he'd dried himself off
with in the shower that morning. He cleaned himself up - wiping down his chest
and his good arm, and then walked over and handed it to Kent.
He took it with a smile and wiped himself off as well - suddenly the room felt
a little less romantic, but it was still nice. Jon went to hand the towel back
and Damian took it, and then tossed it back in the hamper. He thought about
showering, but Damian was too tired, and the idea of crawling back into bed
with Kent was too appealing. He scratched his head as he walked back towards
the bed, and pulled the blanket back. They'd done the whole thing without ever
bothering to disturb the covers, but now he felt like crawling under them and
getting comfortable.
Jon also seemed to like the idea, lifting himself just enough to move the
blankets down and then back over himself. The two crawled into bed, each taking
their pillow and facing the other.
"I get the feeling the money used on that extra bed will be going to waste,"
Damian teased, and Jon smiled.
"Yeah, probably."
"Oh well," Damian shrugged. Damian was laying on his cast uncomfortably, and
winced a little bit and flipped himself over. For a moment, he felt a little
rude for turning his back on Jon like that until he felt Jon scoot closer, his
arm wrapping around Damian's waist and their bodies flush against each other.
Damian was very aware of Jon's dick pressing between his ass cheeks.
"You know I can still feel your dick, right?" Damian asked, and Jon chuckled a
little.
"Yeah, well get used to it," he joked. Jon sighed contently, and Damian could
tell he'd shut his eyes. Damian was not much of a cuddler, but he didn't think
he'd have much success in convincing Jon of otherwise. He resigned himself to
it, and allowed his eyes to shut, letting Jon's steady, even breathing drag him
to sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     O_O I'm not sure how this turned out lmao but there it is. It's been
     a loooooong time since I've written something like this haha. Let me
     know what you guys thought! See you Monday :p
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm glad my literal porn was so well received lmao. It's probably
     going to happen again - I don't know when, and it may not be for a
     while, but let me know if that's something y'all want more of or not.
     This chapter is pretty much just shameless fluffy bullshit - after
     this chapter, there will be some more plot things beginning. See you
     all Thursday!
Damian awoke sweating. It wasn’t from a nightmare, and he suspected it wasn’t
even the room. It was from the huge, hulking furnace latched onto his back.
Jon’s arm was wrapped around his stomach, his large hand halfway wedged between
Damian’s side and the bed. Damian noticed Jon’s heavy, steady breathing, and
realized he must have still been asleep. Damian knew that Jon slept like a
corpse, so he moved his hand a little and scooted out from under him so that he
could stretch. He steadied himself, and gently set Jon’s arm back down on the
bed. He didn’t even budge.
Damian looked over himself and Jon; the pair of them were still entirely naked,
though Jon’s lower half was now obscured by the blanket, a luxury with Damian
no longer shared. With Jon still asleep, Damian quickly made his way across the
room to grab a pair of shorts.
Their clothes had been scattered about leading up to last night’s activities.
Most of Damian’s were gathered in a pile against the wall, with all of it being
in the generally same area. Jon’s were scattered about everywhere; his shirt
was near the pile of Damian’s clothes, his pants were at the foot of the bed,
his underwear was nowhere to be seen.
He couldn’t believe what had happened. He knew that going into this with Jon
would lead down this road eventually; he just hadn’t realized it would be so
soon. They hadn’t had sex, but they’d done enough. Damian smiled a little to
himself; he had never considered himself a sexual person, but memories of the
last night seemed to suggest otherwise.
Damian’s face burned red at the memories of him moaning like a porn star; it
was embarrassing in hindsight, but in the moment, Jon didn’t seem at all
bothered by it. And it was all but involuntary; Damian probably could have
silenced himself if he needed to, but at the time, he simply didn’t want to.
He looked back at Jon who still hadn’t moved. It wasn’t surprising; Jon usually
slept more than Damian anyway, plus he was probably still fatigued from his
mission with the Teen Titans. Damian scratched at his cast a little – this
thing was driving him crazy. He wasn’t even able to put his hands on Jon the
way he wanted to. Oh well, he supposed there would be time for that.
Damian had nothing to do today. With no work, and little options available to
him due to his injury, he resigned himself to getting back in bed. He didn’t
want to give Jon the wrong idea if he woke up to Damian gone. He pulled the
covers back, and crawled in next to Jon again. He briefly considered taking his
shorts back off, but decided against it.
Jon stirred a little this time, which actually surprised Damian. His eyes
barely flickered open, and the two locked gazes for a moment.
“Morning,” Jon grumbled, his voice raspy and weak from sleep.
“Morning,” Damian replied softly.
“How are you feeling?” Jon asked. Damian wasn’t totally sure what he meant;
they hadn’t done anything too intense, just fooled around a little, and Jon was
so gentle that he hadn’t even left a mark except on his wrist.
“I’m great,” Damian admitted. He leaned forward in bed a little and kissed Jon
again, and he smiled into it.
“I’m never gonna get tired of that,” Jon smiled. He wrapped his arm around
Damian’s lower back and pulled him closer, kissing him again. Damian became
very aware of a certain...situation.
“Uh...Jon?”
“Hm?”
“Something you need to take care of?” Damian half-chuckled.
Jon blinked a couple times, then backed his hips away from Damian. “Sorry. Just
woke up.”
“It’s fine,” Damian said. “I think modesty is a thing of the past.”
“Fair enough.”
The two fell silent again. Damian could see Jon fighting sleep, wanting to curl
back up and crash for a few more hours. Damian rolled over and reached for his
nightstand, but his phone was nowhere to be found. He suspected it was still in
his pants pocket, and that was clear across the room. He wished he had an
actual clock in his room; after he’d moved out, he’d just been using his phone
like everyone else. Only just now had it become an inconvenience.
Jon did that thing again where he scooted up close behind Damian, his arm
curling around Damian’s stomach. It was adorable, but it was a little warm for
that, but Damian didn’t have the heart to say anything.
If you’d told Damian a week ago that he and Jon would be lying in bed together,
spooning, he would’ve sent you straight to Arkham. But now that he was
here...he had no complaints.
“What are you thinking about?” Jon asked, mumbling into the back of Damian’s
head as he continued to pull him closer. Damian didn’t answer; it was such a
domestic question to ask, and a bit of a cliché. But if Jon wanted to know…
“Just about how crazy this all is,” Damian half-smiled. “I never would’ve
imagined we’d end up like this.”
“I did,” Jon admitted. Damian turned his head to peer over at Jon a little. “Or
at least, I’d hoped. I’m so glad.”
Damian flipped over and kissed Jon again. “I’m glad, too.”
Jon seemed to have woken up a little bit, but neither of them really felt like
getting out of bed. Neither of them were sure of what time it was, only that
the sun was out and that neither of them had anything to do. Jon would probably
go out on patrol later if the mood struck him, but for now, there was nothing.
“You wanna get some food?” Jon asked. Damian nodded, and the two separated and
finally got up. Damian had already put on his shorts, but he turned his head at
the exact moment to get an eyeful of Jon’s ass as he crossed the room to put
some on himself. He let his eyes wander for a few moments, but then exited
their room and went out into the apartment.
Jon started cooking. There weren’t enough ingredients to make anything fancy,
but there were some frozen waffles in the freezer that would do alright. Damian
missed the days of elaborate breakfasts and things like that, but he wasn’t
much of a cook himself, so it never happened him for him anymore. With Jon
around, he’d probably need to start keeping his kitchen stocked properly.
The pair sat on the couch next to each other with their plates and waffles,
each trying not to make a mess with the syrup they’d added. Jon in particular
had drowned his, much to the disgust of Damian, who was trying to eat his
without the use of one of his arms.
“Need help with that?” Jon mocked.
“Try to feed me, Kent, and you’ll regret it,” Damian snapped. Jon laughed and
finished up his breakfast, then set the plate on the coffee table in front of
them. Damian was still picking at his, but Jon just slouched back in the chair.
He stared off into the distance, scratching his chest and completely zoning
out.
“You still in there?” Damian asked.
“Mhm,” Jon said. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“There’s patrol tonight if you want to,” Damian said. “I’m not in the mood to
be berated by Father again, so you would need to go alone.”
“No, not today, I mean...” Jon trailed off. “About us. I’m glad we are...what
we are. But now comes the fun part of telling people about it.”
Damian groaned a little and set his plate down, the remainder of the food
discarded. He’d been avoiding this conversation, but he supposed it was
inevitable now.
“Do we have to?” Damian asked. “Once people know, then we have to get our
parents involved, people will ask questions...it gets so complicated, and I
like where we’re at right now.”
“I do, too,” Jon agreed. “But I don’t like the idea of keeping a secret like
this.”
“We keep secrets all the time,” Damian shrugged. “I go out every night in a
mask and beat up criminals with my bare hands. You can fly, toss a car over
your head, and set stuff on fire with your eyes. Secrets are kind of our
thing.”
Jon had no real argument to that, but decided to try anyway. “Okay, I guess I
just don’t want another secret.”
Damian thought it over for a few moments. He wasn’t quite sure what he needed
to confess to; he didn’t think he was gay, but he knew he wasn’t straight.
Perhaps adding a label to himself wasn’t necessary, but there would be
something he needed to tell Father down the line if this thing worked out. But
that was probably down the line, and he wasn’t in any hurry to get there just
yet.
“I know one thing,” Damian said. “I’m sick of referring to us as ‘whatever we
are'.”
“I agree,” Jon laughed. “So what should we call us, then? Boyfriends?”
“Boyfriends,” echoed Damian. It felt foreign on Damian’s tongue, yet it was
nice to hear. He glanced over at Jon, who seemed to be having the same thoughts
running through his mind.
“Boyfriends,” Jon confirmed. He grinned and Damian rolled his eyes a little,
but was uninterrupted by Jon leaning forward to kiss him yet again. He tasted
like maple syrup and morning breath, not a great combination, but he ignored it
and kissed Jon back.
They broke apart a few moments later, foreheads pressed against each other, and
Jon just smiled. Damian rolled his eyes and leaned back, folding his arms over
his chest.
“You do that a lot,” Damian pointed out.
“Do what?”
“Kiss me,” said Damian. “And you haven’t brushed your teeth.”
“Morning breath?”
“Only a little.”
Jon laughed again, but agreed; he could do with getting cleaned up. Damian
leaned back in the couch, getting comfortable as Jon stood, stretching his arms
over his head. Jon stretched a hand out to Damian, who just raised an eyebrow
up at Jon.
“Care to join me?” Jon asked.
“Seriously?” Damian chuckled. “You’re insatiable, aren’t you?”
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for this a lot longer than you have,” Jon joked. “Cut
me some slack.”
Damian agreed, only semi-reluctantly. He instructed Jon to go and brush his
teeth and start drawing the water while he covered his cast. They hadn’t given
him any actual device to use to keep his cast dry, but he’d started using a
small trash bag and a rubber band. It hardly made for a romantic atmosphere in
the shower, but it was the best he could manage.
He entered the bathroom, plastic covering his busted arm. Jon turned,
toothbrush in his mouth, and snorted. “That’s a hot look.”
“Bite me, Kent,” Damian snorted. Steam was starting to fill the room as the
shower ran. Damian enjoyed his bathroom – it was spacious and clean, with large
bathtub and a separate standing shower big enough for Bane to shower in. A
bench lined the back wall of the shower, most of which was empty with the
exception of Damian’s and Jon’s shampoos and body washes sitting in separate
piles.
Jon had already gotten undressed while Damian wasn’t looking and headed towards
the shower, running his hand through his hair on the way. He opened the door,
more steam pouring out and rising towards the ceiling. He stepped inside,
leaving the door ajar so that Damian could join him.
Damian too shrugged off his shorts and entered the shower, the only sound being
the water hitting the tiles and hitting the plastic bag sheathing his arm. It
was annoying, and only reminded Damian how much he couldn't wait to get the
damn thing off. However, he was thankful to finally be getting clean again; he
still felt gross from last night's "activities".
Jon turned in front of him; it annoyed Damian that, despite being several years
younger, Jon was nearly a full head taller than him. They were approaching the
age where it didn't really matter who was older - Jon was simply going to be
taller than him forever, but part of him was still stuck in that childhood
mindset. Jon had those broad shoulders and strong jaw that he got from his dad
- he looked older than everyone else he went to school with, honestly. Not by
much - he still looked to be younger than Damian, but only by a little bit.
Damian felt Jon's hand land on top of his head - it was weird annoyingly
patronizing as Jon ruffled his hair, and Damian almost went to smack it off
until he realized that Jon had just put shampoo in his hair. His other hand
reached up to meet the other, resting on either side of Damian's head as his
fingers worked the shampoo into his hair.
It was relaxing - Damian was proud to a fault, and normally someone pampering
him like this would have been embarrassing, but Jon had always been an
exception to those types of rules. He felt it start to lather, and the bits of
water that connected caused it to run down the sides of his head and down the
back of his neck. Jon continued massaging his scalp, making sure to cover every
inch so that Damian's hair could get clean.
When he was satisfied, Jon asked Damian to rinse. He did, closing his eyes and
dipping his head so that the water could more directly hit his scalp. Used his
one good hand to run through his hair and make sure that all the shampoo had
been removed. Before Jon could say anything, Damian reached for the younger
one's shampoo, and intended to return the gesture.
It was a little less...romantic than when Jon had done it. Rather than
gathering it in his palm, Damian unceremoniously squirted a sizable glob of it
directly onto Jon's head. He had few other options - with one arm out of
commission, it's not like he could offer the same courtesy. But regardless, he
set the bottle back down and started doing Jon's hair with the only hand he had
available.
It took a little bit longer, but Jon didn't seem to mind that fact one bit.
Soon Jon's eyes closed as Damian felt Jon's scalp move under his touch, the
hairs twisting and curling as his fingers brought the shampoo to lather. It was
oddly therapeutic, watching Jon be so relaxed. It reminded him of how he'd felt
the night before when he'd finally started reciprocating in bed, and Jon had
such a strong reaction to it. He realized that caring for Jon in this way made
him happy, satisfied.
When Damian was sure he'd done his job, he asked Jon to rinse his hair, just as
he had. Jon was able to do so much more quickly, using both hands to quickly
dispose of the shampoo. While he was doing that, Damian grabbed Jon's body
wash. He was glad they both used body wash rather than bar soap so that they
could avoid the inevitable prison joke.
Right as Jon turned around, Damian used the bottle to pour a good amount of the
body wash directly onto Jon's body. He drizzled it onto his shoulders like
syrup, letting it fall down across his chest and down the back of his
shoulders. Jon went to rub it in a little, but Damian's gaze stopped him,
letting Damian move in to do it himself.
He started on the tops of Jon's shoulders, fingers digging into the hard, thick
muscle that gathered there. The soap was lubricating, and his hand glided over
it, feeling the muscle tense as he applied more pressure. Just as with the
shampoo, he worked it in circles until it lathered, and then moved onto the
other shoulder.
Damian noticed that whenever he would rub circles in one of Jon's shoulders,
his head leaned the opposite way as if he were trying to give Damian as much
room to work as possible. His hand gripped at the back of Jon's neck and
squeezed it, moving his hand back and forth and massaging his neck.
Damian moved to Jon's back. The soap hadn't quite reached everywhere, but there
was enough so that Damian could move it around and cover his whole back. He
really wished he could use his other hand, it would cut the time he needed in
half, but there was no use thinking about that now. He worked in columns, first
rubbing circles vertically down the left side of his back, and then the right,
and then down the center. Jon's head was doing that thing again, instead this
time leaning forward. Damian could't see his face, but he suspected Jon
probably looked like he was falling asleep.
Damian decided to mess with him a little bit, and using one soapy hand, firmly
grabbed Jon's ass. Jon yelped a little, his head jerking upward and posture
stiffening.
"Something wrong, Kent?" Damian sneered, smiling smugly up at his boyfriend.
Jon peered over his shoulder, a little embarrassed, but smiled nonetheless.
"Just surprised is all," he smiled. Damian rolled his eyes and requested that
Jon turn around.
Damian suddenly got cold, the water no longer hitting him as Jon stepped
between him and the water. His back began rinsing, and Damian started working
on the soap on his chest and stomach.
This was the part Damian had both been dreading and looking forward to - on one
hand, Jon was incredibly hot, not to mention built as hell. But two, it meant
they had to stand face to face while he put his hands all over Jon, which felt
incredibly awkward.
Damian first put his hand directly in the center of Jon's chest, hand resting
in the deep groove between each of his pecs. It trailed downwards, and then
back up, and then moving in circles to move around the soap. He went to each of
the muscles one at a time and felt it move under his hand, a certain weight
behind it he hadn't been expecting. Damian was far from being a runt; years of
grueling physical exercise and combat had hardened his body, but it was nothing
like this.
Jon could sense Damian feeling kind of nervous and Damian felt his hand wrap
around his lower back, and pulled them closer together. Damian looked up at
Jon; his hair was soaking wet and falling down onto his forehead, and their
eyes locked for a moment before Jon kissed him. Damian leaned into it, his hand
resting at the center of Jon's chest. Jon's tongue probed at Damian's lips and
he smiled a little, and opened up to it. Their kiss deepened, and Damian could
feel things heating up. However what they had going here was nice; it was
sweet, not spicy. He wasn't in the mood for things to escalate like that.
"Why don't you take care of downstairs?" Damian muttered against his lips. Jon
pulled back a little, surprised.
"You're killing me, you know that?" he joked. Damian just chuckled a little and
placed a small peck on Jon's lips. Despite that, Jon agreed and turned his back
on Damian, facing the water and rinsing off his chest. He grabbed a some more
body wash and took care of his crotch and legs. Damian took that as an
opportunity to sit down on the bench that lined the back wall, and scratched at
the skin touching the trash bag on his arm. This thing was really starting to
drive him nuts.
Jon finished up washing and rinsing, and then came and sat behind Damian on the
bench. He grabbed the other body wash, Damian's, and put some on his back.
Now this Damian could get used to.
Damian was again reminded by how strong Jon was as his hands started to work
into his back. Jon's hands were firm - not painfully so, but enough that Damian
could feel the muscles in his back move around and loosen as Jon worked in
circles down the length of Damian's back.
"Mmm," Damian mumbled accidentally. Jon noticed and snickered a little, and
Damian shoved an elbow into his ribs. It didn't phase Jon, but it was the
thought that counts.
He continued washing off Damian, though it became less about bathing and more
of a massage, honestly. Damian never complained as Jon continued to rub his
back.
Eventually Damian stood and rinsed off his back, then turned and faced Jon.
Kent repeated his process, squirting the soap into his hand and rubbing them
together, then placing his hands on Damian. His large hands covered most of
Damian's chest and started rubbing circles in it. It was oddly soothing.
"It feels like you're trying to grab my boobs," Damian teased. He'd hardly
realized his eyes had fluttered closed, but he opened one just to peer up at
Jon. Jon snickered a little and moved downward, rubbing at the hard muscles on
Damian's stomach. This felt better, and Damian felt himself relax again.
This didn't go on for quite as long, and shortly he asked Damian to rinse off.
Damian did, and took the initiative to grab the body wash and squirt it out on
his crotch and legs. He'd take care of that himself, thank you very much.
Once he finished rinsing off his lower half, they were done. The water was
barely starting to chill, so Damian took the initiative and shut the water off.
Normally Damian showered until the hot water ran out, and when he was alone,
there was plenty of time for him to sit down, relax, and think. They'd barely
made it with hot water with the pair of them...distracting each other.
Regardless, Damian decided he liked showering with Jon.
The pair exited together, Jon first. He grabbed a towel for himself and tossed
the other at Damian, who caught it with his one good arm. He thoroughly dried
himself off before going to remove the trash bag from his arm, finally freeing
himself of the annoying plastic. He still had the cast to deal with, but it was
better than that. The soaking wet bag was quickly tossed into the trash can.
"Now what should we do?" Jon asked. Now that they'd showered, they were back to
their original predicament; they really had nothing to do. There was little to
do just in the apartment, and it wasn't like Damian had many hobbies outside of
being Robin. Truth be told, he didn't really have a life outside of training
and fighting.
Not that it bothered him - being focused was something Damian actually prided
himself on. But in a situation like this when he was trying to be social, it
was a bit of an inconvenience.
"I don't know," Damian admitted. "We'll figure something out."
"Yeah," Jon agreed. They both stepped back into the living room, towels wrapped
around their waists. "We always do."
***** Chapter 14 *****
It had quickly become the best summer of Jon’s life.
He and Damian had been going out for a couple of months now. All in all, things
had stayed pretty much the same; they balanced their lives fairly well. During
the day, they’d mostly lounge around Damian’s apartment. Jon had gotten him to
play video games with him a few more times, and once they even went to the zoo.
Damian had pretended to be only mildly interested, but that had hardly stopped
him from reciting every interesting fact about the animals that he could
recall.
Then at night, the two would don their suits and head down into the city. Jon
enjoyed being Superboy again, especially when he and Robin got to work
together. The two were unstoppable; once at the beginning of July, Riddler had
popped up out of nowhere, and Batman didn’t even have time to drive across town
before Superboy and Robin had stopped him.
The weekends were less fun – their trips to San Francisco to work with the
Titans made things feel like how they were before they got together. Damian had
still been hesitant to tell the Teen Titans about their relationship. In
fairness, Jon knew it wasn’t really any of their business, but it sucked when
two days out of the week, he wasn’t allowed to kiss his boyfriend, or show any
affection towards his boyfriend, or even call him his boyfriend.
Most of those weekends were reserved for training, anyway. Missions had dried
up again, so Jon had continued trying to work on fitting himself into the
formations. By now, he really felt like one of the team; he, Kid Flash, and
Blue Beetle had also become good friends. He was friendly with everyone,
though, but he’d yet to sit down and have a full conversation with Raven since
their odd encounter at the hospital. Surely she knew what was going on between
him and Damian; for a time he worried that she would tell the others, but she
also didn’t seem like one to interfere in that way.
For now, though, Jon wasn’t thinking about that. He had to think about leaving.
“I don’t want to go,” he said aloud. His suitcase was already packed, “his bed”
stripped of its sheets. He’d only actually slept in it for a very short amount
of time, instead opting to share the bed with Damian once they’d gotten
together.
Summer was ending, which means Jon had to go back to finish high school. And
that meant heading back to the farm, and back to Metropolis, which meant
leaving Gotham, and not getting to live with Damian anymore.
It also meant that, at least for a while, he wouldn’t get to be Superboy
anymore, either. But that was the lesser of many concerns – he wouldn’t get to
live with Damian.
“It’s not forever,” Damian said. The two had taken a seat on their shared – now
again just Damian’s – bed. They sat right next to each other, Jon’s right leg
flush against Damian’s left.
“I know,” Jon sighed. “It just sucks. I don’t want to go back to high school, I
don’t want to go back to Metropolis, and I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be fine, and so will you,” Damian said. Damian placed his hands on Jon’s
thigh. Jon eyed them; ever since Damian’s cast had come off, he’d been much
more physically affectionate – Jon wondered if it was built up frustration from
when it was on, where right from the go, he wasn’t able to touch Jon as easily.
“I need to get going, but...”
“You can wait a little longer,” Damian insisted. “School doesn’t start until
tomorrow, right? It’s not that long of a flight.”
Jon turned to face Damian, and was immediately drawn into a kiss. Jon smiled
into it and kissed back, pushing Damian back onto the bed. Damian had gotten
used to being on the bottom; they hadn’t had sex yet, but it was clear to them
both who was in charge in this manner.
But there was no time for any of that, anyway. Despite Damian’s insistence, Jon
really did need to get going.
Though Jon had only just crawled on top of him, he placed one last kiss on
Damian’s lips before rolling off to one side, sighing.
“I hate this.”
It was a vague statement, but Damian too knew how he felt.
They were living together as soon as their relationship began. Jon knew that to
many, that was a huge red flag, but they’d already known each other for so
long, and they were planning to live together anyway so that Jon could help out
in Gotham and with the Teen Titans. It had been good. Jon felt like he was
going to go into withdrawals without Damian by him at all times.
In fact, it was rare they were apart at all. Jon barely went anywhere without
Damian, and vice versa. And now, it would be at least a week before they’d see
each other again. While that wasn’t all that long, it felt then like it would
be an eternity.
“You gonna come back this weekend?” Damian asked.
“Depending on homework, and if my parents will let me,” Jon shrugged. “Besides,
don’t you have Titans stuff?”
“Oh yeah,” Damian mused. The two laid on their backs, just staring up at the
ceiling. “Well if you can, you can come with. Next weekend?”
“I hope so.”
“It will be strange going back to our old formations,” Damian told him. “I
don’t think Beetle wants to go back to being the new guy."
“It isn’t forever,” Jon reminded him.
“Of course not,” Damian nodded. They turned their heads and looked at each
other, hands folded across their stomachs.
The pair laid there for what felt like forever, only silence between them. The
only contact they made was just the edge of their shoulders as they laid side
by side.
“I’ve got to go,” Jon sulked.
“I know.”
The pair both sat up, and Jon crawled off the large bed and grabbed his
suitcase. He’d packed everything into his suitcase and backpack, but he was
sure he was still forgetting some stuff. It didn’t really matter – he’d be back
soon enough.
The pair walked silently through the apartment towards the door leading out
onto the patio. Jon pulled the straps of his backpack tighter and turned one
last time to press a kiss onto Damian’s lips. Damian didn’t smile into it like
he usually did; this felt somber. Regardless, they stayed like that for a few
moments.
“I’ll text you later,” Jon said.
“Yeah. Text you later.”
Jon stepped out onto the balcony, taking a firm grip on the handle of his
suitcase, and flew away.
He was greeted by his family with open arms. He hadn’t seen them all Summer,
except once when he flew back to grab a couple of things he wanted for a date
with Damian, and even then it was only his mother. The three of them had dinner
together for the first time in a long time.
“So are you excited about school?” his father asked.
“I guess,” Jon shrugged, poking at a meatball on his plate. He thought about
Damian, who was probably eating alone. The boy could barely cook for himself –
most of the time, Jon had done all the cooking, and they’d only occasionally go
and eat out.
“You’re not eating much. That’s out of character for you,” his mom teased. Her
eyes stayed trained on Jon until he met her gaze.
“Sorry. I’ll eat.” Jon picked at the meatball and took a small bite out of it.
“Are you okay?” Lois asked. “You’ve been weird all day.”
Jon shrugged again. He knew he was acting weird, and he knew that how he was
acting would raise questions, but he couldn’t really help himself.
“I just...” he trailed off. “I didn’t really want to leave Gotham.”
Clark nodded a couple of times. “I know high school isn’t ideal, and I know you
don’t want to stop being Superboy, but it’s for the best. At least for now –
once you graduate, you can be Superboy again. And as long as homework permits,
you can go work with the Teen Titans on the weekends.”
“Thanks.”
It didn’t matter. Sure, Jon would miss being Superboy – but while he was with
the Titans, he couldn’t be with Damian the way he wanted to. That is, at least
until Damian was comfortable coming out to them, which Jon didn’t suspect would
be any time soon.
He wasn’t even sure when he would get to kiss Damian again.
Jon finished his meal and excused himself from the table. As he departed, he
overheard his parents start to whisper.
“Is he alright?” his mom asked, leaning in close to his dad’s ear. “This is
very unlike him.”
“I was really hoping he wouldn’t pick up all that brooding from Bruce,” his dad
commented. “Should we talk to him?”
“I don’t think so. Let’s just give him some space for now.”
Jon closed himself up in his room and got undressed, crawling into bed. It was
weird, being in his full size bed again. He’d gotten used to Damian’s king
size, the softer sheets, the fluffier pillows. Say what you want about Damian,
but the boy understood luxury.
But mostly, Jon missed sleeping next to him.
Jon pulled his phone out and shot Damian a quick text.
You up? Jon texted him. He didn’t get a reply right away, so he took that
opportunity to get up and brush his teeth. By the time he got back to his bed,
Damian had replied.
Of course. I’m on patrol right now.
Jon thought for a few moments – should he bother Damian while he was on patrol?
Jon knew he was perfectly capable of protecting himself, especially against
common thugs, but he didn’t want to be a nuisance. Before he could say anything
else, though, Damian texted him again.
What is it like being home again? Damian asked. Since he had started this
conversation, Jon decided it would be alright to respond.
Weird. We all had dinner, but they know something is up.
They know about us? Damian replied.
No. They just know I’m depressed. Jon elaborated. It’s okay, I’ll perk up. And
I won’t tell them until you’re ready.
Damian’s reply was slower this time, but eventually, Jon’s phone lit up again.
All Damian said was: Thanks.
Jon didn’t know where to go from there. Damian was surely busy – or rather,
Robin was busy. He didn’t want to distract him from helping people.
I’m gonna get some sleep. Got a big day of school tomorrow! Jon said.
Damian replied almost immediately. Yuck. I’m glad I never went to public school
– sounds like a nightmare.
It is. One more year, and then I’m free. Jon locked his phone, but immediately
a text came back.
Okay. Good night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Jon typed a text, but before he hit send, he immediately erased it. Be safe! he
sent instead.
He had almost told Damian that he loved him.
…
Jon had no desire to be back in school.
Over the Summer, he’d really gotten close with not only Damian, but other
members of the Teen Titans. Those were friendships he’d invested in – Kid Flash
and Blue Beetle in particular. People he clicked with, and people he knew he’d
be friends with for years to come. Mostly due to work proximity, but still!
Being back in high school was another matter – sure, he had friends, but none
he knew he’d still be in contact with in ten years.
He dissociated through most of the day. It was the first day, nothing major was
happening, and any homework he was assigned was review of stuff he’d learned in
years past. His friends asked all kinds of questions he couldn’t answer.
Questions about where he’d been all Summer, why they hadn’t heard from him,
etc. He decided to give half-truths – he was staying with a friend in Gotham
all Summer. That didn’t explain why he hadn’t texted, but it was enough to get
them off his back.
“I’m just really excited to be a Senior,” someone said. Jon nodded to that – he
had to start thinking about what he wanted to do with his life after high
school. Being Superboy wasn’t a full-time job, and his parents weren’t rich
like Damian’s dad. Even Superman had to be Clark Kent, and be a reporter during
the day.
His parents would definitely want him to go to college. He had no idea what he
wanted to study – hopefully something that could help him with being Superboy,
like forensic science, or maybe journalism like his parents.
But he didn’t want to think about that just yet – he needed to, but didn’t want
to. He dug around in his pocket and texted Damian again. High school sucks.
Damian didn’t reply – it was still early, Damian was most likely still asleep.
Jon envied that – it had taken him forever to fall asleep last night without
Damian there, so he was feeling pretty miserable. He struggled not to fall
asleep in class on the first day – that wasn’t a good omen for the rest of the
semester.
Just as lunch let out that day, Jon felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He
thought he’d had it on silent, but it was a good thing it went off then, and
not a few minutes later in class.
Sorry. Just now woke up. Couldn’t sleep last night.
Me either... Jon admitted. He texted Damian again. Not used to sleeping in such
a small bed anymore haha.
Damian texted back immediately. I’m not used to mine being so empty anymore.
They didn’t sleep together EVERY night – they stayed in separate quarters when
they were in San Francisco. But this was different, and neither of them were
happy with the recent development.
I can’t wait for you to graduate. Damian said.
Jon for a moment thought about college again – there were good schools in
Gotham. Perhaps, once he was ready, he could apply to colleges in Gotham so
that he could move in with Damian again.
Me either. I’ve got to go – class is starting. Text you tonight. Jon sent the
message and quickly ensured his phone was on silent, then put it away. He
didn’t have time to wait for a response this time.
The teacher approached the head of the classroom – he’d had her before for
English. She had also taught his class his Junior year, and she was notoriously
boring. Jon signed, resting his chin in his palm. It was going to be a long
semester.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is up late - usually I upload it first
     thing in the morning when I get to work, but I took yesterday off to
     go ride roller coasters lmao. So here's this chapter - the schedule
     will remain the same with this one exception. New chapter on
     Thursday, and then back to usual on Monday! Hope you enjoy <3
“His grades are slipping,” Jon’s mom said. It wasn’t hard to overhear her –
with Jon’s hearing, he could hear all kinds of stuff. She was whispering to her
husband, to Jon’s dad, in the kitchen downstairs. “He’s always been such a good
student; what is going on with him?”
School had only been back in session for a few weeks. Jon had yet to have an
opportunity to visit Damian since school began. Homework had been relentless –
Jon’s workload was high this year, consisting of two AP courses. He was
fortunate to not partake in any extracurriculars – he wouldn’t be able to keep
up.
But his mom was right – Jon’s grades were slipping. He wasn’t a Straight A
student, but his GPA had never once fallen below a 3.5 in his entire life. He
wasn’t sure what his GPA was looking like at this moment, but it couldn’t have
been great.
He’d been having trouble focusing ever since he went back. Jon wasn’t an idiot,
he knew exactly why – but he couldn’t stop it. Whenever he tried to work, all
he could think about was wanting to go back to see Damian. The sneaking around
didn’t help either – he felt pressured to hide even his texts from his parents,
just in case Damian sent something he didn’t want them to see. And he had
nobody to talk to about it – Damian was the only one who knew about their
relationship, with the possible exception of Raven, and she wasn’t exactly a
prime candidate for an emotional confidant.
Jon thought he was going to lose his mind. He pulled up his phone, and texted
Damian.
I think I need to tell my parents about us. He sent the message, and waited
semi-patiently for his boyfriend to respond. He knew what Damian’s response
would be, but Jon was tiring of all the hiding. It wasn’t like they were
constantly probing for this kind of info, but Damian came up semi-often in
conversation, and he felt like he had to tip-toe around every word he said.
Especially when it came to discussing what they did over the Summer.
Jon’s phone buzzed. Why?
They know something is up. I’ve been having trouble focusing at school, and on
homework – I’m sick of hiding all of this. I never get to see you, and I have
nobody to talk to. Jon sent it. As soon as he sent it, he knew how it sounded –
he didn’t mean to blame Damian. This wasn’t an easy thing to talk about,
especially for Damian, who had the emotional sensitivity of a hammer. But it
was driving Jon to a breaking point he didn’t want to reach.
Damian replied. I’m having similar issues here. Father has commented on my
performance.
Jon typed back frantically. Did you get hurt????
Don’t be ridiculous. Damian responded. Father says that I’ve been “surprisingly
aggressive”, coming from the man who breaks upwards of three arms a night.
Jon snickered a little. Yeah, that sounds like your dad though. Have you really
been like that?
Damian didn’t respond immediately, but soon enough Jon’s phone lit up again.
Maybe a little. I’m just frustrated, too.
If our parents knew, or at least mine, it may be enough for them to let me come
to Gotham more.
Damian didn’t reply. Several minutes passed, and Jon suspected that either
something was up in Gotham, or that Damian was thinking it over. Jon had given
him something to chew on – sure, they’d need to tell at LEAST Jon’s parents,
but if it meant that Jon would get to visit Gotham more, it may be worth it.
Jon checked the news just to be sure, but nothing seemed particularly out of
the ordinary in Gotham. Soon, Jon’s phone lit up again.
Sorry. Car chase. Damian reported. Jon didn’t know what to say, but Damian
texted him again. I think you may be right.
Wait, really? Jon asked him. I’m taking screenshots of this moment.
Oh ha ha, Kent. Jon could practically hear the sarcasm in his text. Savor the
moment, then. But I do agree – I think the time for all this secrecy has come
to an end.
We had a good run of it, huh? Jon replied. We’ve been dating for just over
three months. It had to come out eventually, didn’t it?
Damian replied quickly. I suppose. I’m still not looking forward to that
conversation with Father.
So you want to tell your Dad, too? Jon asked.
I don’t think “want” is the word we’re looking for, Damian said. But...give me
some time on that. I’m not going to walk over and let my feelings burst forth,
as I’m sure you will.
Jon snorted. Sure thing. I’m not feeling that conversation tonight either – it
can wait another day or two for me. And you can tell Bruce whenever you’re
ready.
Thanks Kent. Damian said.
<3
And you ruined it. Damian said. Jon laughed and locked his phone, tossing it
aside. Jon rolled over in his bed, facing the ceiling. He thought about having
to talk to his parents – that didn’t sound like it would be a fun conversation.
It had to happen eventually, and he knew that they would accept him. He just
didn’t want to hear the clichés of “I’ll always love you”, “Are you sure?”, and
so on and so forth. This was something he’d come to terms with a long time ago
– he could only imagine how Damian would deal with it all.
…
Damian decided not to deal with it all.
After Jon left, he poured himself into fighting crime in Gotham. He felt some
criminals give up their life of crime for good as Damian snapped their bones
and blackened their eyes, leaving them tied to light poles, dumpsters, and once
to the hand rail leading right up to GCPD. Father had taken notice – he worried
that Damian was slipping, falling back into his old ways where he would take a
criminal’s life, or damn near.
That wasn’t it.
It was no secret Damian wasn’t too keen on processing his feelings like a
normal person – he didn’t know how. So instead, he focused on what he did know
– beating the shit out of criminals.
“Robin,” Father called. Damian spun around – he’d just finished tying up
another mugger to a payphone (those are still around?) when Batman approached,
appearing behind Robin as if from nowhere.
“Yes?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow at his mentor.
“Come with me,” he commanded. Robin nodded, and the pair of them used their
grappling hooks to retreat onto a nearby rooftop.
Once in the safety of darkness, away from streetlights, Batman reached up and
removed his cowl. Then Bruce, face newly exposed to the night sky, turned and
faced his son.
“Talk, Damian.”
“About what?” he quipped back. Damian knew exactly what his father was getting
at, but didn’t want to talk about it. But he didn’t know how to stop this
conversation from happening.
“You. You’ve been increasingly violent over the past few weeks,” Father
explained. “And it’s only getting worse. I know that violence is a part of the
job, but if you’re slipping, you need to tell me.”
“I’m fine, Father,” Damian insisted. “I’m not a child anymore. You don’t need
to worry about me.”
“I’m your father, so I will always worry,” Bruce said, almost defiantly. “If
something is wrong, you know you can talk to me. You do know that, right?”
“Yes, Father, I’m aware,” Damian sighed, rolling his eyes. “Seriously. I am
fine.”
Bruce stood silently for a few moments, stoic expression ever present. Damian
knew that his father was onto him, but now wasn’t the time for this
conversation.
Silently, Bruce put his cowl back on, and Batman was back. “I’m here to listen
if you need me, Robin. But not for the next few days - I'm going with Green
Lantern to deal with an issue with the Corps. So keep an eye on Gotham while
I'm gone.”
Damian stood silently, but nodded. Batman’s grappling hook attached to a nearby
building, and he swung away.
Damian waited a few seconds before releasing his breath. It had almost happened
– he’d almost told Batman everything. He thought he was ready to tell him, but
something was holding Damian back.
…
Jon had resigned himself to do it today. It was Friday, leading into the
weekend, and if things didn’t go according to plan, he could fly off to Gotham
for a little while
There was another advantage, too – both his and Damian’s dad were currently
off-planet, dealing with something about the Green Lantern Corps. Jon didn’t
know the whole story – the juicier details the Justice League tend not to get
passed down to a seventeen year old. So a one-on-one with just his mom was way
less intimidating.
Jon’s attention was snapped back to the classroom when the door burst open,
another teacher panting. Jon was in English again – lunch had only just ended,
and he’d been struggling to shake his nerves all day. His eyes locked on the
teacher, whose heavy breaths were the only sound in the room.
“T-Turn on the news,” he panted, gesturing at the TV. Jon’s teacher looked
confused, but reached for the controller on her desk anyway and turned on the
TV, immediately flipping over to the news.
The scene was of Gotham. The line “BREAKING NEWS” in large, bold text at the
bottom of the screen framed the scenario. People running in the streets, away
from a large plaza at the center of the town. Thick, brown gas poured through
the area.
“This just in,” a reporter said. The camera swung to the left to get the
reporter at the edge of the frame. “Scarecrow has launched a chemical attack in
Gotham City. Residents are advised to stay off the streets, and if possible,
get out of the city. GCPD has already deployed officers to the scene to contain
the area – the rest is being left to Batman.”
Jon’s heart skipped. Batman wasn’t even on Earth right now, he hadn’t been for
at least two days. Jon wondered if Scarecrow knew that – it seemed likely.
Jon felt himself start to sweat – he pushed his glasses up instinctively, and
his hand gripped at the edges of his desk. He felt the structure start to give,
to crack under his touch, and he loosened up and opted to ball his fists
instead.
“Jon – Jon, are you okay?” someone asked. Jon looked to his left – a friend,
Kathy, was watching him with concern. “Oh that’s right, you spent the whole
Summer in Gotham, didn’t you?”
Jon didn’t reply – he just nodded. Before she could speak again, the intercom
in the classroom beeped.
“Jon Kent, please report to the office. You’re being checked out,” it said. Jon
didn’t know what was going on – he was expecting to stay through the rest of
the day. Part of him knew it had to be related to what was happening in Gotham,
but he wasn’t sure.
He quickly gathered his things into his backpack, not bothering to say goodbye
as he all but ran from the classroom. It didn’t take long to reach the front
office, where his mother was signing a form on the desk to get Jon out of
school.
“Mom?” he asked.
“Hey, Jon,” she smiled. He could tell it was fake, but he didn’t point it out.
“Ready for your appointment?”
“Appointment?” he echoed. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Y-Yeah, let’s go.”
She said a quick goodbye to the secretary and the pair made their way outside.
“This is about Scarecrow, isn’t it?” he asked. His eyes traveled over to Lois,
and she nodded up at him (he thought again about how weird it was to be taller
than your mom). "How did you get here so fast?"
"I was on my way into the city when I got the alert. Batman is off planet with
your father, and he’s not going to be back for a while to stop him,” she
explained. “We got a message from them a little while ago. Batman gave the
mission to the Teen Titans in his absence – he’ll be back as soon as he can.”
“So I—”
“Here, give me your bag. Your suit is in the car,” she explained. She took
Jon’s backpack from off his shoulders, and shoved a plastic bag containing his
suit into his arms. Jon thanked her and hugged her quickly, and then pulled the
suit tighter. He couldn’t fly off, not here – there were security cameras all
over the parking lot. But he sprinted off away from the school as fast as he
could (without his powers, of course). The second he felt he was safe, Jon tore
off his clothes, disposing of them in a dumpster, and got into his suit.
Jon checked his phone one last time before he took off. A text from Damian was
waiting for him.
Meet us at the Batcave.
Jon tucked the phone away and forced himself into the air, rocketing towards
Gotham as fast as his body could carry him.
***** Chapter 16 *****
“Okay, I know the situation is bad, but this is freaking awesome!” Beast Boy
exclaimed.
Jon had only just arrived to see the entirety of the Teen Titans in the
Batcave. Most of them had the expected reaction – seeing the Batcave for the
first time was an awesome experience. And it hadn’t worn off of Jon, but right
now, there were bigger fish to fry.
“Superboy, you’re here,” Robin stated. Jon’s eyes flew around to meet with
Damian’s. He couldn’t see his eyes – only the flat white surface that replaced
them once his mask went on – but it was nice to see him again, even if the
situation wasn’t ideal.
“What’s going on?”
“Scarecrow has launched a chemical attack in downtown Gotham,” Robin reported.
The whole time was silenced and stared directly at their leader. “From what we
can tell, casualties are minimal. My best guess at this moment is that
Scarecrow noticed Batman’s absence and is trying to capitalize on that,
possibly to set a trap for him once he arrives. We’re going to make sure he’s
already in a cell by the time Father returns.”
“Scarecrow is a big fish,” Kid Flash commented. “No offense, Aqualad.”
“Why would that offend me?”
“My point is that this is a big time villain,” Kid Flash continued. “We tangle
with Deathstroke sometimes, but a single assassin is one thing. This is
serious. Where is Batman, anyway?”
“Off planet. Which means this is our responsibility now,” Robin stated. “While
Batman is away, Gotham is my responsibility. And as much as I hate to admit it,
I don’t think I can take Scarecrow alone. So we’re going to handle this
together.”
“What do you need us to do, Robin?” Superboy asked. Superboy knew the stakes –
this wasn’t a time to worry about stupid relationship stuff. This was when he
needed to think about his job – his title – as Superboy. And Robin knew that,
too.
“Starfire, Raven, Beast Boy, Superboy. Take to the skies and scout out the area
of the attack. Look for any of Scarecrow’s lackeys or potential casualties. Kid
Flash, scan the area in a five block radius from the attack. Check buildings to
make sure everyone is out, and help anyone with physical handicaps out of the
area,” Robin said, assigning the roles. “Beetle, you’re going in first. Your
suit should be immune to Scarecrow’s toxin, so you’re going to be our first
line of defense.”
“Awesome,” Beetle sighed. “What about the rest?”
“Aqualad is going to the scene as well to help clear out the gas. There’s a
fountain at the center of the square where the attack happened – try to use the
water to disperse the gas or something,” he commanded. Aqualad nodded
affirmatively.
“And you?” Jon asked. He and Damian locked gazes for a moment.
“I know a couple of guys who used to work for Scarecrow,” Robin explained. “I’m
going to shake down some leads and see if I can find where Scarecrow is hiding.
I doubt he was in the square personally.”
“You sure you want to go alone?” Beast Boy asked. “I mean, this is Scarecrow
we’re dealing with. Splitting up into groups that small isn’t a good idea.”
“I’ll be fine. This isn’t my first time fighting Crane.”
“It’s your first time without Batman, though,” Kid Flash stated. “Do you want
me to go with you?”
“No. You have your missions,” Damian snapped. The team agreed begrudgingly.
“The rest of you all, move out. Superboy, I need a word.”
Superboy felt like he’d been called out in class by his teacher. The rest of
the team had their missions – Kid Flash sped off, Raven, Beast Boy, and
Starfire flew out, and Blue Beetle grabbed under Aqualad’s arms to lift them
both into the air. After a few moments, only the two boys remained.
“What’s up?” Jon asked.
“Just wanted to give you a heads up,” Damian began. “I dosed the rest of them
with a counter Batman made to Scarecrow’s toxin. This is probably a new batch,
I don’t even know if it’ll work, but it’s something. I can’t give you any,
though.”
“Why not?”
“It’s in liquid form, and I don’t have a syringe that can break your skin
unless I dose you with Kryptonite,” Damian explained. Jon winced – yeah, fair
point. That’s not good.
“So you’re saying I can’t get near the gas.”
“Nowhere near it,” Damian ordered. “Superman has been dosed before, too, and it
wasn’t good. On top of that, you’re half human – we have no idea what kind of
effect it might have on you.”
“I can’t stand by and let Scarecrow hurt people!”
“I’m not asking you to!” Damian exclaimed. “Just be careful. Focus on
evacuation, and use your x-ray vision to scan the city and try to find him. The
second you find him, you report to the team. Okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Jon agreed. It was a fair concern – but he hoped Damian
wasn’t babying him due to their relationship.
Speaking of, it had barely registered with Jon how good it was to see his
boyfriend again. It had been right at a month – all the sneaking around and the
distance hadn’t made it easy to see each other. He thought about kissing
Damian, but then thought better of it – there were probably cameras all over
the Batcave.
“I’ll see you in a little while, alright?” Jon said. Damian nodded, and the two
headed out of the Batcave together. Once outside, Jon launched himself into the
sky to join the rest of the scout team.
It didn’t take long to find them – Starfire was addressing the group, acting as
the pseudo-leader in Damian’s absence.
“Preliminary scouting shows that only minions of Scarecrow remain inside the
gas,” she explained. “It seems they have been dosed with an antidote for
Scarecrow’s toxin. We don’t know if our antidotes will work, but we have no
choice but to try.”
“You guys go ahead,” Jon said. The others turned to face him, but Jon didn’t
have a chance to speak again. In that brief pause, Raven spoke up.
“The needle can’t break your skin,” she deduced. “You’re vulnerable.”
“Which means I need to keep my distance,” Jon said. “I’ll keep an eye out from
here. I can see into the gas with my x-ray vision. I can coordinate from here.”
The rest of them nodded in unison. They flew down towards the gas – it had
dispersed a little, but it seemed to be a heavy gas that formed a sort of cloud
over the square. It reached just high enough to hit the top floor of the
tallest building, but not above. It seemed calculated – the location of this
attack was no random decision.
“Did you guys notice the area covered by the gas?” Jon said, speaking over his
comm. He relayed what he had noticed about how high the gas reached after its
dispersal.
“Good eye, Superboy,” Robin noted. “This area was selected specifically. But
why?”
“Our antidote appears to be working, Robin,” Starfire reported, changing the
subject. “Myself, Raven, and Beast Boy are in the gas now, but we are
unaffected.”
“Good. Keep me updated. I’m working on a lead,” Robin stated. “I’m going to be
radio silent for a little while. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back. Out.”
The line went dead, and Robin was silent. Aqualad and Beetle arrived on the
scene – it seemed they got caught up in assisting some people who had been
trapped during the panic. Aqualad made his way to the center of the square and
tapped into the fountain, causing water to erupt from the top. As it rained
down, it was as if the water pulled the gas down with it, and it started to
disperse once it reached the ground around their ankles. Jon didn’t quite
understand the science of it, but soon enough, the gas had disappeared.
Jon flew down to meet the group of them. “The gas is gone!” he exclaimed. The
rest of the team all nodded, smiling triumphantly.
And then explosions rocked the entire square.
Windows blew out from every building around them, and the group instinctively
ducked their heads to avoid any debris.
Kid Flash sped into the area, stopping in front of the group. “S-Scarecrow’s
toxin is…!” he stuttered. Gas started to pour from the windows, out from the
doors that had been blown off their hinges. The gas was quickly starting to
fill up the square again.
“Titans, around me!” Raven ordered. Everyone rushed close to Rave and she
surrounded them by a bubble of her dark magic. She stood with her arms
outstretched, mumbling something under her breath, and her eyes closed shut as
she focused on keeping the gas out.
“He had it set up only in this square. This was a trap,” Kid Flash explained.
Jon bit the insides of his cheeks, knowing that they were trapped.
“This gas looks different,” Aqualad commented. “A new formula?”
“A watchful eye, Aqualad,” a voice called out. The group’s eyes all snapped in
the direction of the voice as a figure emerged from the heavy greenish-brown
fog that now surrounded them. “My new toxin is a perfection of chemistry. Those
antidotes you’ve given yourselves won’t help you with this.”
The figure wore a business suit, dirty and stained. He carried what looked like
the pressure washer Jon’s dad had used to clean the siding on their farmhouse,
but something about it was off. And then his face – a twisted machination of
burlap that obstructed his real features.
“Scarecrow,” Jon muttered aloud. He reached up to his ear. “Robin, come in.
Scarecrow is here, the square was a trap. Robin?”
“Calling for Robin will not help you, Superboy,” Crane told him. “My toxin
interferes with radio transmissions. He can’t hear you. He can’t help you.”
Jon saw the group enter fighting stances, ready to charge at the foe. He was no
skilled fighter – Scarecrow’s power came through manipulation, and his toxin.
Were this cloud of poison not surrounding them, saved only by Raven’s magic, he
would have been an easy target.
“I’m disappointed that Robin was not with you,” Crane admitted. “No matter.
Everyone has fears. Robin’s is losing his precious Titans. Batman’s is losing
his precious Robin. Again.”
Jon stood at the edge of the barrier, his nose just about to connect with it.
Although the barrier kept him inside, Jon’s face hovered only inches from
Crane’s.
“Lay one finger on Robin, and you’ll answer to me,” he snarled. Crane chuckled
a little.
“I do not fear you, Superboy. You are powerless to touch me,” Scarecrow
taunted, turning his back on the group. “My new toxin will not be held out
forever. Once her barrier falls, my poison will fill your lungs, seep into your
pores. You will know fear – and then, when you’ve all killed each other – so
will Robin.”
Scarecrow walked away, vanishing into the fog.
The group’s breathing intensified, and Raven winced. “He’s right. The gas is
heavy – I can’t keep it out forever.”
“Aqualad, can you use the water to clear the gas like last time?” Starfire
asked. Aqualad shook his head.
“Water’s cut off, I don’t have a steady stream to access anymore. Scarecrow
must have planned for that.”
“Let’s think this through,” Kid Flash began. “He trapped us to get to Robin.
What does he want with Robin?”
“To get to Batman,” Jon concluded. “This isn’t about us. He only wants Batman
to fear him, we’re just stepping stones to get there.”
Beast Boy growled. “We need to get out of there. If I turn into a whale, you
can all get in my mouth. The toxin will only affect me, and you guys should be
able to work it out from there.”
“If you turn into a whale while we’re in this barrier, you’ll crush us all,”
Kid Flash criticized. “Plus, one breath in, and it would suck the toxin in with
us anyway.”
Jon took stock of the area around them. Raven’s barrier made X-Ray vision
impossible, but he could still faintly see where Scarecrow had stood. The gas
hadn’t affected him – perhaps he’d built up an immunity, or already
administered an antidote to himself. That meant it could be cured – but it
didn’t solve their current situation.
“Raven, could you extend the barrier upwards to create a tunnel for us to fly
out?” Jon asked. “If we can get above the gas like last time, we might be able
to get airborne. I can carry Aqualad and Kid Flash out myself.”
“Maybe. But I couldn’t hold it for long,” Raven warned. Jon watched as she
thought over her options for a second. “Someone is coming.”
Jon turned and tried to see through the barrier, with little results. However,
he did hear guns cocking. His reflexes barely kicked in. “Everyone down!”
Automatic weapons fired at the barrier on all sides – Jon watched as the
bullets created ripples, like rocks skipping on a lake, that soon made it
impossible to see through the barrier. Raven strained against their pressure,
trying to keep both the toxin and the bullets out.
…
Damian’s leads had run out.
He knew some thugs from the last time Scarecrow attacked the city were still
hanging around, but they didn’t appear to be working under him anymore. It had
been some time – in fact, neither he or Batman had heard a peep out of
Scarecrow in more than three years. It wasn’t too surprising that the ties
Damian had expected didn’t pan out. But he had few other leads.
The tricks they used last time wouldn’t work again – Crane was smart. No doubt
the toxin was being produced outside the city, and his base would have moved.
His goal was still a mystery – it’s possible this was all a trap for Batman,
but he couldn’t be sure.
Robin turned his radio back on. “Titans, come in,” he spoke. Only static
greeted him on the other line – no connection? That was never a good sign.
Damian used his grappling hook to reach a vantage point, trying to see where
the bomb had gone off. There was still smoke in the square, but something about
it seemed different. It looked...heavier? And with a more greenish tint to it
than it had had before. A different toxin? It was hard to say for sure.
“Titans, report,” he commanded. Still, no voices came through his comm system.
Damian took that as a bad omen and made his way towards the gas.
…
Jon could see Raven sweating. It wasn’t like her to lose composure, but he
could understand the stress – she was the only thing keeping the Teen Titans
from tearing each other apart. Jon had seen the footage of what Scarecrow’s
toxin could do to people – it wasn’t pretty.
Worse yet, Jon wasn’t sure if any of them could stop him if he lost control.
Raven maybe, but she was using all her energy on keeping them sane.
“We need a way out,” Kid Flash exclaimed, stating the obvious. Jon could barely
hear him over the gunfire raining down on them. “Do you think we could burrow
down?”
Jon thought for a second. “Gotham has all kinds of tunnels and stuff – what are
the odds one runs right under here?”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take,” Beast Boy said. “Superboy, think you can
punch your way through?”
“I can’t keep the barrier up through something like that!” Raven yelled, trying
not to lose her focus. She was starting to breathe heavily.
Starfire had an idea. “Kid Flash, I have seen your mentor phase through solid
objects. Can you do that?”
Kid Flash hesitated to answer. “Yeah, but I’ve only ever moved myself and one
other person. I couldn’t do it for all of us.”
“Then do it one at a time,” Superboy said. “Get each of us down there, and
Raven last so that she can keep the barrier up.”
“Knock me out before the toxin affects me,” Raven commanded. The group all
looked over at her. “If I see my fears, you aren’t going to like what comes
out.”
Jon didn’t understand the significance of that, but Beast Boy’s expression said
enough.
Kid Flash got to work. He grabbed Starfire’s shoulder and closed his eyes,
trying to focus. He and Starfire both started to vibrate quickly. Jon watched
in awe as the two slipped through the ground like it wasn’t even there.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then Kid Flash appeared again.
“Good call. Tunnel right beneath us,” he said. Kid Flash reached over and
grabbed Jon’s shoulder.
“Me next?”
“Hell yeah. I’m not fighting you.”
The gunfire around the group stopped, and Raven’s eyes went wide. “Hurry up,”
she insisted. Jon felt his whole body heat up, and as he looked down, it was
like his hands were blurry. Was this what it felt like to have the speed force?
It felt so bizarre.
Jon felt the pair of them start to sink into the ground, and as soon as Jon’s
feet hit open air, he felt himself fall and hit the ground unceremoniously.
Starfire stood across from him, her arms folded across her chest. Her foot
tapped impatiently. “For someone so fast, he’s taking his time,” she sighed.
Jon could hear the stress in her voice.
Jon stood up, dusting the dirt off his butt from where he’d fallen. “He’s doing
his best. He’ll get them out,” Jon assured her. He looked around.
He’d gotten lucky – Jon knew about these tunnels, but he wasn’t sure if they
were even stable, much less if one was directly beneath them or not. But his
luck wouldn’t last forever.
“He still needs to get Beast Boy, Beetle, Aqualad, and Raven,” Starfire said.
“And Raven seemed—“
A huge explosion rang out above them, and Jon instinctively forced Starfire
under him to shield her from any debris that might rain down. None came – the
tunnel appeared to be surprisingly stable. But after a few seconds, the sounds
stopped. And Kid Flash didn’t appear.
“Something is wrong,” Starfire stated. “He should be back by now.”
Jon tried to place the explosion – there wouldn’t be more bombs, would there?
No, if anything it may have been a grenade, or maybe some kind of missile
launcher. What the hell was Scarecrow thinking?
Jon swallowed nervously. “I think anyone up there just got a nice dose of fear
gas.”
***** Chapter 17 *****
Robin’s worst fears had come true.
He could barely see through the thick cloud of fear toxin, gathered in heavy
clouds that hovered only feet below the edge of the rooftop he’d perched on. He
tried his comms again – still no luck.
Then a huge explosion right at the center of the square almost knocked him off
his feet, and only seconds later it was accompanied by screaming. A single
figure flew straight upwards from where it had happened, another, smaller
figure clutched in his arms. Robin waved his arm over his head, and as it
turned, they flew in Robin’s direction.
It was Blue Beetle, and in his arms lied an unconscious Raven.
“What happened?” Robin asked.
Blue Beetle got him up to speed. He explained that Starfire and Superboy were
safe, but Kid Flash was just about to get Beast Boy underground when some kind
of RPG had destroyed Raven’s barrier. On her instruction, Blue Beetle knocked
her out immediately, and rescued her from the gas.
“So Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Beast Boy just got infected,” he said.
“But you’re still good, right?” Damian asked, wanting to be sure. Blue Beetle’s
eyes trailed off for a second.
“Scarab says yes.”
He’d have to take it at his word. At best, those three would be out of
commission – at worst they’d be violent, or dead.
“R—in, c-n you he— us?” a static-filled transmission came through. Robin placed
a hand over his ear.
“Superboy, Starfire, is that you?”
“Robin?” Jon’s voice came through clearer. “We’re – way back – ground. Kid
Flash –“ The signal cut out again. It was a relief to know Jon was safe – not
to mention still in his right mind. The last thing he needed was a toxin-
induced deathmatch with his own boyfriend.
Literally what was Damian’s life?
“Beetle, is there any way you can clear this toxin?” Damian asked. Blue
Beetle’s eyes trailed off again – he suspected the Scarab was talking.
“Scarab says we should be able to do it, but it’ll take time,” he said,
confirming Damian’s suspicions. “What do we do about the others?”
“Nothing we can do for now. If we go into that toxin, we’re—“
A yellow and red blur shot out of the gas, and slowed as Kid Flash rolled into
the street. He rolled around, arms flailing, like something was stuck to him
and he was trying to get it off. He struggled to his feet, breathing heavily.
“Get started,” Robin ordered. Beetle nodded and flew off He ran towards Kid
Flash – he doubted he could help, but Damian needed to make sure that he didn’t
run off and hurt himself, or worse, someone else.
He used his grappling hook to drop down onto the ground, standing between Kid
Flash and the huge cloud of fear gas behind him. He knew how dangerous the
situation was – if Kid Flash charged, and got a shot off, it could send Damian
flying back into the toxin, but he had few other options.
“Kid Flash? Can you hear me?”
Kid Flash barely reacted, still writing standing up, his hands scratching at
himself all over. He babbled incoherently, panicked.
“Wally, listen to me. It isn’t real,” Damian insisted. He’d seen Crane’s toxin
before, but this was different. It was hard to see his friend so messed up –
but Robin had a plan. Executing it without Jon would be tricky, though.
“N-No,” Kid Flash stuttered. His eyes suddenly became focused, train on Robin.
“Stay away from me! I’m warning you!”
“Wally, it’s Robin,” Damian insisted. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I want to
help.”
“Y-You can’t hurt me!” Kid Flash screamed. “I won’t let you!”
Kid Flash charged. Damian readied himself – he had only a fraction of a second
to get his arms raised in front of his face.
…
Jon arrived just in time to tackle Kid Flash out of the way.
He’d only heard the last bit of their conversation, and from a considerable
distance away thanks to his powers. Starfire was still catching up to him – but
he heard Kid Flash start to charge, as well as his name – Wally, Robin had
said. It didn’t ring any bells, Jon didn’t know anyone named Wally (well, one
kid from school, but he was white, and Kid Flash wasn’t even from Metropolis).
He’d gotten there just in time, tackling Kid Flash through a wall on the
opposite side of the street Jon had emerged from. Had Jon been a second later,
Damian would’ve been thrown into the toxin.
“Superboy, it’s Robin,” Damian reported over the comms. Jon couldn’t reply,
still prying himself from the rubble of the wall he’d just knocked down. “Kid
Flash’s metabolism will eat through the toxin. Make him use his powers – the
more he runs, the faster his head will clear.”
So Jon just had to make the speedster run, and to keep up with him enough to
make sure he didn’t run off. Piece of cake!
Jon stepped back into the street, brushing rubble out of his hair. Damian had
vanished – probably back onto the rooftop to give Jon more room to work. Or,
run. Whatever.
He stepped across the street, floating off the ground a little. If he was going
to keep up, he needed to be in the air – he’d never even come close to beating
Kid Flash in a foot race.
“You okay, Kid Flash?” Jon called. Damian’s voice came through over the radio
again.
“Make him afraid of you,” Damian said. “Get him to run away, and chase him
down.”
“I’m fast, but not as fast as him,” Jon sighed. He saw rubble start to move in
the building – Kid Flash was coming out.
“He’s too frantic – he’ll make mistakes. Trip, fall, take wrong turns. You’ll
catch him.”
Jon had no time to argue. Kid Flash appeared – his mask had been torn off when
Jon tacked him. He looked unassuming – his hair was closely shaved to his head,
and Jon could still see the panicked look in his eyes. He wasn’t even sure if
Kid Flash – if Wally had noticed his mask was gone.
“Run away, Wally!” Damian called from above. Jon decided he’d go with Damian’s
plan.
He lifted into the air, and tried to make himself look as large as possible. He
charged his heat vision – glowing red eyes couldn’t hurt in this case.
Now that Jon could see Wally’s full face, the panic that flashed over his
features made Jon feel like a dick. It worked, though – after swallowing
nervously, a blur was all that remained of where Kid Flash once stood. Jon
chased after him as fast as he could.
…
As Jon chased after Kid Flash, Damian had his own troubles to worry about.
Whatever plan Blue Beetle had was going to take time they didn’t have – Aqualad
and Beast Boy were still down in that cloud of toxin, and Damian heard the
distinct sound of an elephant along with some screaming – if Scarecrow had
goons down there, no doubt they were being pummeled by the pair of them.
Starfire finally arrived and landed on the rooftop next to him. Robin caught
her up to speed. “Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Beast Boy all got hit with the fear
toxin. Superboy is taking care of Kid Flash.”
“What about Raven and Blue Beetle?” she asked.
“Beetle is fine. He’s working on something to clear this gas. As for Raven...”
Damian gestured towards her unconscious body. Starfire winced, but nodded – she
didn’t like it, but she understood. Anything was better than fighting Raven if
Trigon got to her again. It meant the difference between destroying a city
block and destroying the world.
“So now, what do we do about Beast Boy and Aqualad?” Starfire asked, deferring
to Robin.
“Even once the gas clears, they’re not going to be in their right minds,” Robin
said. “We’ll need to take them out as fast as we can. So get ready.”
They waited. Starfire sat down to rest for a second, and Robin double-checked
his belt to make sure he had everything he needed. Starfire could handle Beast
Boy – with all her strength, she could handle just about any animal he turned
into. Aqualad would be tougher – his strength and speed were no joke, and those
weapons of his could be deadly if Aqualad is that messed up. It would be up to
Robin and Blue Beetle to take him down.
“We’re good to go up here,” Blue Beetle said over the comms. “Beast Boy,
Aqualad, if you can hear me, duck and cover.”
Robin and Starfire exchanged a glance. “Beetle...” Robin started. “What do you
mean by duck and cover?”
Robin’s eyes shot to the sky as a bright blue light appeared. Blue Beetle was
flying directly above the cloud, hovering in place, with his cannon aimed
directly down at the square. “Get down!” Robin yelled. Starfire stepped between
Damian and the blast, arms outstretched to either side and she turned her back
on the square as a blue beam shot straight down from the sky. It connected with
what must have been the fountain, as a huge shockwave rocked the entire square.
The gas didn’t go upwards, as Damian had feared – instead it shot off in every
direction, going down the now empty streets, slowly dissipating as it seemed to
flee from the square.
Whatever Beetle had done seemed to work. Anyone left standing in the square was
knocked down, either unconscious or now struggling back up to their feet. Beast
Boy had reverted from his elephant form and appeared again as a boy, his thin
legs barely supporting him.
“Little warning next time, eh Jaime?” Damian scolded.
Beetle scoffed. “I said duck and cover.”
Beast Boy and Aqualad were back on their feet. Aqualad pushed off a piece of
rubble – no doubt it had once been part of the fountain – but quickly as his
mind cleared from the blast, the toxin started to take effect once again.
“Titans, go!”
Starfire grabbed Damian by the shoulders and flew them both towards the ground,
dropping Damian so that he could roll and charge at Aqualad. Aqualad wasn’t
going to miss a beat – Damian didn’t know what he was seeing, but whatever it
was, he saw Damian as an enemy.
Damian drew his sword to match Aqualad’s – he feared the water would destroy
his own blade, but he had few other options to block with. Before their blades
could make contact, though, Blue Beetle dropped on the ground between them.
Aqualad didn’t hesitate, and the blade instead transformed into a hammer that
swung right at Blue Beetle’s head. Beetle caught it in one fist, straining
against it. His other arm transformed into some kind of a clamp that trapped
itself around Aqualad’s other arm.
Aqualad was a warrior, and even though his hands were trapped, he lifted his
feet off the ground to kick at Beetle’s abdomen. Beetle was taken back, his
grip loosening, but Damian wouldn’t give Aqualad a chance to capitalize on
that. He jumped over Beetle, foot swinging down to crack Aqualad in the side of
the head. A normal person would’ve been knocked out immediately, but Aqualad
was no normal person.
He was knocked back, though – stumbling, he even dropped one of the two devices
he used as weapons. He clung to the other one, and when Damian continued to
charge, water erupted from it in the form of a whip, coiling around Damian’s
ankle.
Damian sliced at the water with his sword, severing the connection to keep
himself from being tripped. The two went at it, sword against sword – the
difference was that Damian could feel Aqualad trying to kill him. Damian knew
it wasn’t his fault – he could only imagine what horror Aqualad saw him as –
but it definitely made his job harder.
…
God fucking damn it Wally was fast.
Jon was struggling even to keep him in eyesight, much less contained within the
few city blocks this was all going on. Except for the eight-block radius or so
quarantined off by GCPD, business was going as usual in Gotham City. Traffic
was a backed up more than usual due to the obstruction, but otherwise
everything was okay. Except for the two racing superheroes, that is.
Kid Flash ran like he was fleeing for his life. Hell, in his mind, he really
was. Jon was afraid to lose him and pushed his body to its limits, flying as
fast as he could and cutting corners as efficiently as he could. Once he flew a
little too low and flew straight through a traffic light, showering a row of
cars in sparks, but nobody seemed to be injured.
Jon tried to reach out to Wally via the comms, but it seemed that his was built
into his mask rather than being right in his ear. It was fortunate he could
move so fast, because if he stopped, everyone would see his face.
Kid Flash started to slow down. Jon thought about yelling at him again, but now
people were around. Suddenly Kid Flash ran up the side of a tall building, and
Jon followed suit, flying upward as quickly as he could.
Kid Flash came to a stop, falling onto his hands and knees once he reached a
solid surface. He was breathing heavily, and just as Jon touched down, he
retched and threw up onto the concrete roof. Jon winced – he didn’t like puke,
and that really wasn’t a cute look.
“You okay?” Jon asked.
Kid Flash didn’t speak for a long time, but spit, and wiped his mouth. He stood
shakily. “You said my name.” Jon didn’t know what to say. “You know who I am?”
“Just your name,” Jon told him. “I heard Robin say it.”
“Figures he knows who I am,” he scoffed. “What happened?”
“Scarecrow’s toxin got you,” Jon told him. “Beast Boy and Aqualad got hit, too.
Are you good?”
Wally turned and nodded. He approached, eyeing him up slowly. Something in his
expression made it seem like it was still wearing off – Jon eyed him back
warily.
“You made me run so my metabolism would burn through the toxin,” he deduced.
“Smart.”
“Sorry for scaring you...” Jon apologized sheepishly. “Did it work?”
Kid Flash hesitated, but then nodded. Jon sighed with relief, and he pulled
Wally into a hug. “Nice to meet you officially, Wally. I’m Jon.”
He couldn’t see it, but Jon could tell Wally rolled his eyes. “Alright, that’s
enough. Come on, we’ve got to go help Gar and Aqualad, then get this son of a
bitch.”
Jon pulled back, nodding. The two rocketed off back towards the square.
…
Starfire made short work of Beast Boy – only a couple of minutes after she’d
engaged him, she knocked him out. His gorilla form slipped, and he toppled onto
the ground unconscious.
Aqualad was proving far more problematic. Blue Beetle didn’t end up being as
useful as Damian had hoped – he seemed to be arguing with the Scarab, trying to
keep it from killing Aqualad, leaving Damian to do most of the fighting. And
he’d trained Aqualad himself – he was no pushover. Put that on top of his
powers, and he was starting to give Robin a run for his money.
His chest swelled with pride as much as it did with actual swelling. Aqualad
may have cracked one or two of Damian’s ribs, or at least bruised them.
But soon it didn’t matter. Damian had been knocked to the ground, and used his
position to take a cheap shot at the side of Aqualad’s knee. It had to hurt
like a bitch – Damian would need to apologize for it later, but it was enough
to get Aqualad down on one knee, clutching at it in pain.
“Y-You can’t do this,” he grunted. “Please don’t harm Atlantis.”
Damian’s chest tightened – he must have seen Damian as Black Manta.
Before Damian could act again, Blue Beetle appeared behind Aqualad, and
delivered a hard, swift punch to the back of his head, rendering him
unconscious.
Damian struggled to his feet, gasping for air. Aqualad had beat the shit out of
him, a fact he wasn’t proud of – he’d need to double his training from then on.
Overall, aside from the two of their teammates knocked out (three if you
counted Raven on the nearby rooftop), they’d made it out of this relatively
unharmed. Jon reported in over the comms that Kid Flash was safe, too, and that
they would be back shortly.
“We made it,” Starfire sighed. A convenient side effect of Beast Boy and
Aqualad going off the rails is that, in the midst of all that toxin, they were
able to dispose of Scarecrow’s henchmen.
“Now we have to focus on Scarecrow,” Damian said. “Whatever this trap was for,
it failed. So now we need to find wherever he’s hiding out.”
“Master Damian, if I may intrude,” Alfred chimed in. Damian almost jumped out
of his skin.
“What are you doing on my comms, Pennyworth?” Damian asked belligerently.
“Assisting you, of course,” Alfred insisted. “When Scarecrow set off the
explosion to release the second wave of fear toxin, the Batcave picked up a
distinct electromagnetic signature. The same signature is being tracked in the
city, and only one matches. It’s at an abandoned warehouse not far from your
location.”
“Scarecrow must know we’d pick up on that. It’s definitely a trap,” Damian said
aloud. The rest of the Titans agreed. Damian thought silently for a moment.
“Alfred, send the location to me and Jon. We’ll meet there. Beetle, take care
of Beast Boy and Aqualad – go put them up there with Raven until they wake up,
then catch up.”
The Titans all moved out. Jon reported that he had the location on his phone,
and they’d all meet there. Undoubtedly Jon and Kid Flash would arrive first,
but they’d all be there soon enough.
…
Jon landed on the ground next to Kid Flash, both staring up at the warehouse.
It seemed unassuming – Gotham was filled with warehouses like these, and Jon
had begun to expect that they were left exclusively for the use of super
villains.
The rest of the team was still on the way. Kid Flash took a moment to think,
and Jon could see he was stressed. “What’s up?”
“I don’t have my mask,” Kid Flash sighed. “Scarecrow can’t see my face. And if
it’s all the same, I’d prefer the rest of the team not either.”
Jon stayed silent for a moment, and then something seemed to occur to Kid
Flash. His face started vibrating, and soon Jon couldn’t make out any features
on it. “Clever,” Jon noted.
They took a moment to look around them – this must have been farther away than
they thought. Jon could see them approaching in the far-off distance, but they
certainly still had a few minutes.
He decided to take the opportunity to look inside the warehouse with his x-ray
vision, and something immediately stuck out. It seemed totally empty, with the
exception of one person, seemingly tied to a chair, sitting in the back corner
of the building.
“Oh shit,” Jon said. “Scarecrow has a hostage.”
“What?” Kid Flash asked. “That doesn’t seem his style. Is he not in there?”
“Not that I can see,” muttered Jon. “We have to help them.”
“Wait for backup,” Kid Flash insisted. “You don’t know what you’re walking
into.”
“It’s empty. I can help a hostage,” Jon scoffed. He flew forward, up and
through one of the glass windows. The pieces of glass rained down onto the
floor of the warehouse.
Jon could see the hostage for real now. He was a little older – probably in his
40’s or so. He wore a white suit, dirtied and a little tattered, no doubt due
to being jumped by Scarecrow’s guys. He was breathing heavily.
“Oh thank God,” he exclaimed, his deep voice the only sound in the warehouse
except for the gas. Jon flew towards him – his hands were held behind his back,
probably tied up.
“Are you alright?” asked Jon. The man nodded, breathing heavily.
“I’m fine,” he said shakily. “Scarecrow just left a few minutes ago, heading
out of the city, I think.”
Jon didn’t respond to that one, instead opting to help the man out of his
restraints. Jon got closer to him, and something started to feel off – then his
eyes traveled over to an odd piece of burlap sitting on a nearby desk.
Jon’s reaction was too slow – the man’s hands weren’t bound, they were clung
onto a device behind his back. It was the weird pressure washer looking thing
he’d seen before – and a whole bunch of fear gas blasted right in Jon’s face.
“S-Scarecrow!” Jon said. He’d never seen the man before without his mask – if
not for Raven’s barrier earlier, he probably could have seen his face under
that mask of his. He should have known this was a trap, and now he’d pay the
price for it.
The world around him started to shift. It was like a filter had been put on his
vision – everything took on a reddish-brown tone, and smoke poured off
Scarecrow’s body as he stood from the chair. He crossed the room and Jon felt
himself get weak, collapsing onto his hands and knees. He peered out of the
corner of his eyes and Scarecrow picked up that piece of burlap. It slipped
over his head, and then something happened – suddenly, it wasn’t a mask –
instead Scarecrow had transformed into a bizarre monster, and it had become his
face.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jon tried to remind himself that it wasn’t
real. But it wasn’t enough to know that – the monster grew closer, a large,
glowing sickle clutched in a clawed hand. Jon backed away, scooting on his butt
until his back collided with the chair Scarecrow had just occupied. A cruel,
sick laugh rang out and the sickle raised up, going to swing down.
Jon should have known that, even if he swung, Scarecrow wouldn’t be able to
hurt him. But then Jon couldn’t breathe, and he knew that if that sickle came
down, it would be the end of his life.
Jon decided he needed to fight – unable to bring himself to get up just yet, he
blasted Scarecrow in the chest with his heat vision. He blew back across the
room, and flew right into a stack of cardboard boxes.
Jon struggled to his feet, starting to hyperventilate. He needed to get outside
– despite being a huge, empty warehouse, he felt constricted, like the walls
were closing in on him. The monster was starting to move – his heat vision
hadn’t killed it for sure, and Jon sprinted across the room, forced the door
open, and poured out onto the street.
…
Damian and the rest of the Titans arrived at the warehouse to see only Kid
Flash standing outside. His mask was gone, but he seemed to be using his speed
to obscure his face. Jon was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is Superboy?” Damian asked.
“Inside. I told him to wait for backup, but Scarecrow had a hostage. Said he’d
take care of it,” he reported.
Damian was about to criticize Wally for letting him go in alone, and then the
front door flew open. Jon tumbled onto the ground, panting, eyes wide and
frantic. Damian knew the look on his face.
Oh no.
His eyes locked on the group – specifically on Starfire for some reason.
Without hesitating, Jon’s eyes flared red and a huge beam of his heat vision
rocketed towards her. Her reflexes were sharp – she immediately countered with
a beam of her own green energy, and the two locked. Damian was briefly reminded
of that scene from Harry Potter, but he decided that it really wasn’t
appropriate at the moment.
Starfire actually managed to over power him, and Jon’s heat vision seemed to
short out and he received a starbolt to the face. It knocked him on his ass,
but he got up without a scratch on him.
“S-Stay away,” he stuttered, backing away. Damian knew now that he’d been dosed
with fear toxin – but he didn’t know what to do about it.
“I’ve got this,” Damian assured the team. The Titans looked at him in shock.
“You guys get in there and take out Scarecrow. I can handle Superboy.”
“You’re joking, right?” Kid Flash asked. “You can’t beat him.”
“I’ve beaten Superman before,” Damian scoffed. “Go. I’ve got this.”
The team nodded – they didn’t understand, but then Damian charged at Jon,
drawing his sword. Jon wasn’t hesitating this time – he charged, too, raising
his fist high.
“Jon, snap out of it!”
***** Chapter 18 *****
Damian tossed a grenade at Jon’s feet. It wasn’t explosive, and it certainly
wouldn’t be harming anyone but Jon. It was something Father had insisted he
bring the second he knew there was a chance of Scarecrow and Superboy coming
into contact – Kryptonite gas. It was the only way he could take Jon without
being torn in half.
Jon seemed surprised, and if he was afraid of Damian before, he sure as hell
wasn’t happy now. Damian landed in front of him, and when Jon went to swing at
him, Damian caught his fist in one hand. Jon’s eyes widened – he wasn’t used to
someone matching his strength.
But he wouldn’t be able to overpower Jon forever. The Kryptonite gas had a
limited time it was effective, not to mention that Jon was just bigger than
him. But if it came down to a fight of skill between the two on even grounds,
Jon stood no chance.
So he needed to take the opportunity. Jon would forgive him later for the
beating he was about to lay down, but for now, he needed to be taken out of
commission.
Damian twisted Jon’s arm over and brought his knee up to connect with Jon’s
face. He cried out, and Damian watched as Jon spit blood onto the ground.
Damian winced – he felt like shit for hurting him like this, but he had few
other options.
Then Damian went to hit Jon again, and suddenly his strength meant nothing. Jon
stood up straight, blood trailing down the sides of his mouth and from his
nose, but he was upright again.
It suddenly clicked – Jon was half human. Kryptonite must not last as long, or
be as effective as they were on his father.
Damian felt a hand tighten around the front of his shirt, and his feet lifted
off the ground. Jon wasn’t struggling, which meant was most if not all of his
strength was already coming back to him. Not good.
“Jon, it’s me,” Damian pleaded. “It’s Damian. You don’t want to hurt me.”
Damian watched as Jon struggled with it. His brows furrowed – not in anger at
first, more like frustration. The fist tightened around his shirt.
“Do...not...say his name,” Jon growled. Damian swallowed nervously. “You’re not
him...I won’t let you hurt him.”
Jon raised his fist, and Damian knew that bargaining wasn’t going to work if
Jon didn’t even know it was him. Damian grabbed Jon’s wrist with both hands and
kicked his legs up and wrapped them around Jon’s shoulder, one leg over and one
under. He used his weight to pull him down, flipping Jon over his head and onto
his back. Damian hit the ground hard, but Jon was disoriented from the
movement. Damian struggled to reach the back of his belt where he had more
kryptonite gas ready – but Jon was ready for it now.
He broke his grip on Damian and flew up into the air, out of reach. Damian
scrambled back to his feet and readied the gas.
“Stay back!” Jon yelled. He took a deep inhale in, and Damian knew what was
coming. He dove for his sword and jammed it into a crack in the pavement, and
held on tight.
A huge hurricane of wind almost knocked Damian clear off his feat. The sword
was the only thing stopping him from being blown back into the warehouse, and
probably break his neck in the process.
Jon quickly ran out of breath – that skill wasn’t his best, and Damian took
that opportunity to pull out his sword and charge again. The gas canister
wouldn’t be able to detonate regularly while Jon was in the air like that. So
Damian tossed it, and then a fraction of a second later, tossed a Batarang. The
two collided right in front of Jon, and the green gas clouded around his head.
Jon yelped, and quickly fell out of the air and hit the ground.
For a second Damian thought he’d gone totally limp, but then he started pulling
himself up.
“Stay away from me!” he pleaded, scrambling to get away from Damian. He didn’t
give Jon the chance, though – he shot out a wire that coiled itself around
Jon’s whole body, restricting him and knocking him back onto the ground.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Damian kept chanting to himself as he ran
over to Jon’s side, trying to keep Jon from breaking free again. Jon fought
against his restraints helplessly, but Damian knew that wouldn’t last forever.
He needed to think – under kryptonite, Damian knew that Jon was vulnerable, but
he also didn’t want to hurt Jon. And he only had one canister left, and that
wouldn’t be enough to subdue Jon until the toxin wore off. So what could he do?
“Alfred, are you still listening?” Damian said. He hoped that Pennyworth hadn’t
given up on listening in.
“Of course, sir,” Alfred responded immediately. “What do you need?”
“A way to contain Superboy until the toxin wears off,” Damian said. “The
Batcave has a red sun generator tucked away somewhere, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but I would need to find it,” Alfred said. “I think I know where to look.
How are you going to get him back here?”
“Send the Batwing. I’ll lead him back myself.”
“Very good sir. It’s already en route,” Alfred reported. Jon was starting to
get his strength back, so Damian wrapped another wire around him to try and
slow him down. Wind picked up around the area and the Batwing was already
overhead, hovering only a few feet above the tallest building on either side of
him. Damian detached the wires from his arms and used his grappling hook to
pull himself upwards. A hatch opened in the bottom of the jet, and Damian
pulled himself inside.
He tossed the gun aside and scrambled up to the cockpit, taking the controls
manually and lifting the jet up a few feet. He spun the plane around to face
Jon.
Jon had broken free of his restraints and was floating into the air, eyes
charged red. The Batwing was armored against those types of attacks, so Damian
wasn’t in any danger of being roasted alive – but he was also fairly sure that
Jon could pull the wings off this thing with his bare hands.
Damian clicked on the speaker to talk to Jon. “Come on, don’t you want some?”
he taunted. Jon’s eyes flared red as beams of hot energy attacked the plane. A
couple of warnings went up about “potential attackers”, but nothing was
actually damaged.
He took the opportunity to check the Batwing’s weapons – he’d used them before,
but it wasn’t often that the jet was actually in combat. It was filled with
non-lethal rounds (even though live bullets would bounce off him, it still
wasn’t ideal to fire those off in the middle of Gotham). Damian decided a
couple of those might get his attention, and fired a nonlethal round into his
chest.
Jon screamed and flinched as the loud popping sound of the gun firing rang out,
reminding Damian that Jon wasn’t angry – he was scared. The bullet didn’t harm
him, though, just bounced off the S on his chest, as expected.
Damian thought back to what Jon had said, about “not letting him hurt Damian”.
He figured he may as well take advantage of that, and turned the plane back
around to face the Batcave.
“See you at the Batcave – come save your precious Robin!” he screamed. It felt
so meta, but it definitely got Jon’s attention. Damian hit the thrusters as
hard as he could, blasting Jon back temporarily before they began their chase
through the skies above Gotham City.
Jon kept pace with the Batwing, barely breaking a sweat. Damian continued to
taunt him through the speakers, making sure he stayed on Damian’s tail.
Soon Damian could see Wayne Manor rising in the distance – Damian put the jet
back in auto-pilot and stepped away from the controls. The jet wasn’t Jon’s
target, Damian was.
“Alfred, tell me you’ve got it,” Damian pleaded.
“Yes, the red sun generator is ready. Master Bruce condensed it into a sort of
ray gun – one shot on Master Kent, and he should be rendered unconscious for
several hours,” Alfred explained.
Damian didn’t have time to thank him. He opened a hatch in the bottom of the
Batwing, and jumped.
He expected to confront Jon before he hit the ground, but not so soon. The
second Damian was out of the plane, Jon caught him by his wrist and dangled him
in the air. He was held up only by Jon’s strength as the plane soared away,
auto-pilot taking over to ensure it didn’t crash. Damian had planned for this
situation, too.
He reached for the last kryptonite canister and a batarang with his free hand.
He put the batarang in his mouth and jabbed the side of the canister open, and
tossed it directly at Jon’s head. The pressure released just in time, showering
him in kryptonite.
The tricky part of this plan was that they were now almost five stories in the
air, and Jon could no longer fly. Damian tied a cord around his waist and
hooked Jon onto his belt, and the two started to fall.
Jon started to scream – without his powers, and not even in a clear mind, it
must have been terrifying to free fall like that. Damian gripped the sides of
his cape and fanned it out, wind catching up under the thick material and
slowing their descent.
Jon struggled against the restraint, but his strength hadn’t returned. Part of
him didn’t want to be let go, anyway – after all, without his powers, a fall
from this height would either kill him or break most of the bones in his body.
But soon the fall turned into a glide, and the two moved forward, drawing ever
closer to Wayne Manor.
When they were about ten feet off the ground, Damian unhooked Jon from his belt
and dropped him onto the front line, continuing his glide forward. He was still
going fast, and rolled once he touched down so that he didn’t fall.
Jon was running at him – his powers weren’t back yet, but that didn’t seem to
deter him from “protecting” Damian.
“Tt,” Damian grunted, and he turned his back on Jon to run towards the mansion.
The closest entrance to the Batcave was in the study, behind the grandfather
clock. Damian noticed that Jon’s powers were taking longer to come back this
time – he wondered if the number of doses may have increased the recovery time
or something. Regardless, he was thankful for it, and made sure to slam every
door behind him as he sprint up towards the study.
Once inside, he made short work of the grandfather clock and moved it aside,
and immediately grabbed onto the pole, sliding down into the cave.
Alfred was waiting the second Damian’s boots hit the ground, holding some kind
of rifle, and rushed over towards Damian.
“Robin, thank God you’re alright,” he breathed. “The weapon is ready. Just
charge it up, point, and shoot.”
“Thanks, Pennyworth,” Damian said, grabbing the weapon. It was surprisingly
heavy, with a large, flat disc mounted on the front of it. As Damian lightly
pulled on the trigger, it started to glow red.
“Your Father should be returning shortly. The second he heard about what was
happening in Gotham—”
Jon slammed down on the ground, fist hitting the floor and the hard stone
cracking under his force. Someone had his powers back. Damian pulled the
trigger a bit harder, but still it did not fire, only kept charging.
Jon took a shaky, fearful breath, but pressed on anyway. Damn that courageous
bastard.
“Jon. Jon, it’s me,” Damian said. He took a single step backwards – he had no
more kryptonite canisters, and the gun wasn’t ready yet. He needed to try and
slow him down. “It’s Damian. You see me, right?”
“Don’t...say his name!” Jon yelled. “You can’t hurt Damian! Not him!”
“Jon, please stop,” he begged. The gun was getting hotter in his arms, Damian
could feel it. It would be ready soon, but Jon was still pressing on. His eyes
started to glow red. Alfred moved out of the way, trying to stay out of Jon’s
vision – though it barely mattered, as he seemed fairly distracted.
“You will not hurt Damian,” he growled. “I won’t allow it.”
Damian felt his breath hitch – he had to shoot him, he knew that. But he
really, really didn’t want to, and hoped instead that now would be the
miraculous moment that the toxin wore off and he came to his senses. But then
Jon broke into a run, his super speed crossing the distance extremely fast.
Damian pulled the trigger.
Red light flashed in the room like fireworks, and Jon was blown back off his
feet. A perfect, circular hole appear in the front of his costume where the
beam hit, the “S” vanishing except for just the top of the letter.
And in its place was a bright red burn. Damian hadn’t expected it to physically
harm him – but Jon was knocked out cold, with a dark red, circular burn on the
middle of his chest.
“Jesus Christ,” Damian gasped, dropping the gun like a sack of bricks and
running over to his side. Damian slid onto his knees and pressed his ear up
against the burn on his chest – Jon’s skin was hot like fire, but he heard a
distinct heartbeat under it. He was alive, but definitely hurt.
“It...may have still been calibrated to counter Superman’s strength, now that I
think about it,” Alfred admitted sheepishly. “I will fetch the first-aid kit.”
“What happened?!”
Damian turned around, and there stood Batman. It felt like Damian had been
caught sneaking out or something, like he was in trouble all of a sudden. He
wasn’t sure why, though.
“J-Jon got hit with fear toxin. I had to stop him – used the red sun
generator,” Damian explained. Father ran over and all but pushed Damian aside,
checking Jon’s pulse just as Damian had.
“He’s lucky to be alive, Damian,” Batman scolded him. “I created that in case I
ever needed to take Superman out. He’s probably only alive because he’s half-
human.”
Damian felt bile rise in his throat – if he’d killed Jon, he’d never be able to
live with himself. He felt sick, and then…
Damian clamped a hand over his throat, and turned around, and puked up
everywhere. He felt his shoulders start to shake. “Fuck,” he grumbled, wiping
his mouth. “Is he okay?”
“He should be,” Father concluded. “He’ll probably lose his powers for a few
days, but with enough sunlight, he’ll be fine.”
Father scooped him off the ground and over to the makeshift medical area in the
Batcave. Mostly it was reserved for Alfred stitching Father up at the end of
the night, but for now, he’d lie Jon down in the bed and wait for him to wake
up.
Damian placed a hand to his ear. “Titans, report in,” he said shakily.
“Scarecrow has been captured,” Starfire said. “How is Superboy?”
Damian’s voice caught before he could answer. “Hurt. I hurt him. But apparently
he’s okay. Or, he will be. He’s unconscious.”
“Do you need us to come?” Kid Flash chimed in.
“No! No,” Damian said. “Make sure Scarecrow gets to Arkham. I’ve got this. Good
work, team. Make sure that Raven, Beast Boy, and Aqualad are alright, too."
“We’ll take care of it, Robin,” Blue Beetle assured him. “Say hi to Superboy
for us when he wakes up.”
“Will do,” Damian said. That was relieving, at least. He turned to his father.
“Scarecrow is in custody. The rest of the Titans are making sure he gets to
Arkham without incident.”
Alfred and Father were checking Jon’s vitals, but Father took a second to turn
to face Damian, and nodded. “You did good work. What happened to Raven, Beast
Boy, and Aqualad?”
Damian recounted the story of the mission, and how they had to take out Raven
before anything bad happened, and how Beast Boy and Aqualad had been dosed with
fear toxin. He told him the plan he had to get Kid Flash back after he was hit,
which ended up working. He stood silently, and nodded along.
“And how was Jon poisoned?” Father asked.
“I don’t know,” Damian admitted. “He and Kid Flash got to the warehouse before
us, and by the time the rest of us got there, it had already happened.”
Father and Alfred finished checking his vitals, and applying a burn cream to
his chest. They weren’t sure if it would help on Jon – most likely it would
heal on its own as he got some sun, but they figured it couldn’t hurt to try.
“He just needs time to rest,” Father concluded. He removed his cowl and set it
off to the side. He scratched at his hair for a second, matted down because of
his mask.
“You can head home, Damian. I’ll keep an eye on Jon and let you know when he’s
awake,” Father said. Damian froze. He didn’t want to leave Jon – he’s the one
who just knocked Jon’s ass clean out and probably nerfed his powers for a few
days. He’s the reason he has a giant burn on his chest, and although he wasn’t
present, Damian’s leadership was indirectly responsible for him getting gassed
in the first place.
“I want to stay,” he blurted out. Bruce raised an eyebrow at Damian, but then
nodded. Damian removed his own mask – he’d forgotten he was even wearing it. He
rubbed his eyes and took a seat next to Jon’s bed.
His breathing was shallow, but steady. As Father and Alfred departed, Damian
instinctively slipped his hand into Jon’s like he’d seen in the movies so many
times. “You’ll be fine,” Damian whispered. He knew Jon couldn’t hear him. “I’ll
be here when you wake up.”
He thought about the logistics – he’d need to tell Jon’s parents about what
happened. No doubt the news had caught footage of Superboy attacking the
Batwing, so she was probably worried sick. Damian didn’t even know if Clark was
back on Earth yet.
He let his hand slip out of Jon’s, and sat back in his chair, folding his arms
over his chest. He’d stay awake as long as he could, and when Jon woke up, he’d
be there.
***** Chapter 19 *****
Chapter Notes
     What whaaat. So this chapter is getting real meta - a flashback!
     Hopefully this will explain something from earlier in the story that
     we only saw from one perspective - a rather important time in their
     lives :) I hope you all enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Jon’s eyes flew open, a huge, gasping breath escaping his mouth. He sat up
straight, panting, and confused.
Where was he? His memories were still piecing themselves back together. He
remembered his race with Kid Flash, and going to the warehouse to confront
Scarecrow. And...there was a hostage? He couldn’t really remember.
Wait, yes, he did remember. It was Scarecrow – he was pretending to be the
hostage. And then Jon got hit with fear gas. And then he remembered running –
there was a monster, and it wanted to hurt Damian. He saw Damian, dead...but
the details of it all were sketchy.
Jon looked around the room – his thoughts were still hazy, and he was only
really aware of a couple of things around him. His chest hurt. Bad. And there
was a fluorescent light that was hurting his eyes after just waking up. And he
was in a bed of some kind – a hospital bed, he realized. But the room didn’t
feel like a hospital.
He squinted to see past the bright, shining light in his eye, and the ceiling
was covered in stalagmites. The Batcave? How did he get here? He must have
collapsed after the toxin hit him, and Damian must have rescued him.
Jon’s eyes traveled off to his left, where Damian was resting in a chair. His
arms were folded over his chest, and his chin had dropped and was touching his
chest. He’d fallen asleep sitting up – how long had Jon been out?
He considered waking Damian up – he wanted to let him sleep, but he also needed
answers on what happened. How much time had passed? Did Scarecrow get away? In
the end, he knew Damian would forgive him for bothering him.
“Damian,” Jon said softly. His voice was raspy – he wondered if he’d been
screaming a lot under the toxin’s influence, or if maybe he was just thirsty.
Damian’s eyes slowly opened, much slower than Jon’s had. His eyes stayed half-
lidded until he and Jon locked gazes, and then Damian’s eyes opened quickly.
“Jon! You’re up,” Damian said thankfully. He stood and walked over to Jon’s
side, taking his hand.
“What happened?” Jon asked.
Damian hesitated for a few seconds. “You got hit with fear toxin. And you
thought I was your enemy – I had to stop you.”
Jon’s throat tightened. Holy shit, he’d attacked Damian? He had no recollection
of any of that. He vaguely remembered fighting that monster – but, he supposed,
that must have actually been Damian. Deep down Jon knew it wasn’t his fault,
but he also knew that it was his poor decision that got him gassed in the first
place.
“Are you okay?” Jon asked. Damian nodded.
“Yeah. But I shot you.”
Jon’s eyes traveled down, towards the huge center of pain in his chest. A
circular hole had been burned through his suit, and the “S” had been almost
entirely incinerated. In its place was Jon’s bare skin, bright pink, and hot to
the touch.
“The hell did you shoot me with? A flamethrower?” Jon asked, wincing as he
gently traced a finger across the surface. It hurt too much to fool with, so he
put his finger back on the bed. “Fuck, this hurts.”
“I’m sorry,” Damian apologized. “I hit you with a red sun generator. It’s the
same sun energy that was on Krypton – I needed to eliminate your powers, and I
ran out of kryptonite.”
“Wait wait wait,” Jon said. “You brought kryptonite?”
Damian nodded without hesitation. “When I knew that you and Scarecrow would be
coming face-to-face, and because I couldn’t give you an antidote, I knew it was
a possibility I’d need it. I was right.”
Jon was angry at that for some reason. He understood it from a logical
standpoint – obviously, without kryptonite (or whatever this “red sun
generator” was), it would be almost impossible for Damian to stop him. Yet
there was still something oddly invasive about Damian using kryptonite on him,
and he wasn’t sure why.
“I’m sorry,” Damian apologized. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Do you need
anything?”
“You said something about my powers,” Jon said. “I feel weak.”
Damian’s face froze for a second, and then he nodded. “Father thinks the red
sun energy may have taken your powers away. Not forever, probably just for a
few days. You’ve been out for a whole day as is.”
A whole day? Jon knew he’d been asleep for a while, but that came as a shock to
him. And not having his powers for several days? He had to be at school
tomorrow, and now he couldn’t even fly back to Metropolis.
“I’m sorry,” Damian repeated. “I shouldn’t have let this happen in the first
place.”
Jon shook his head, and tightened his grip on Damian’s hand. “It’s fine. I’m
alive. Did you get Scarecrow?”
Damian nodded. “The rest of the Titans escorted him to Arkham themselves,” he
said.
“You didn’t?”
“I wanted to be here.”
Jon examined Damian from head to toe. Except for his mask and gloves being
missing, he was still dressed entirely in his Robin suit. His sword was sitting
off to the side, propped against an empty chair. “Have you showered?”
Damian shook his head. “Wanted to be here when you woke up.”
“Dude. Gross,” Jon snickered, teasing with him. “Go take a shower. You probably
smell like death under that suit.”
Damian didn’t laugh – his brows were furrowed, still worried about Jon. “I’m
fine. Seriously, Damian,” he swore. “Go get cleaned up. I’m not going
anywhere.”
Damian hesitated – Jon had never seen him so protective like this before. He
leaned up a little and placed a small kiss on Damian’s lips.
He’d almost forgotten how long it had been since he’d gotten to kiss Damian –
almost a month. They’d barely seen each other, and when they did, they were
battling a super villain, or Jon was trying to kill him.
Damian was hesitant – after all, he had to consider where they were. But Jon
knew how persuasive he could be when it came to kissing Damian. Even if Jon
could barely move, he was going to get Damian to kiss him goddammit.
Eventually Damian conceded and leaned into it a little, one hand reaching to
cup Jon’s cheek. Jon smiled into it, and the two broke apart, both smiling at
each other.
Damian heard someone clear their throat across the room, and Jon could
physically see Damian’s blood run cold. “Master Damian, Master Jon,” Alfred
greeted. Damian whipped around like a cyclone, eyes wide, embarrassed. “Sorry
to interrupt.”
“Pennyworth. What are you…?” Damian trailed off.
“It’s none of my business, sir,” Alfred insisted. “I was coming to check and
see if Master Kent was awake. It’s good to know that the Snow White technique
was successful in waking him up.”
“Oh ha ha,” Damian mocked sarcastically. “Very funny.”
“I thought so, yes,” Alfred smirked. “Anyway, I will...leave you two to it, I
suppose.”
Alfred turned on his heel and exited the makeshift infirmary. Jon could see in
his posture that he felt quite smug – and Damian was stressing.
“Shit. Shit,” he repeated. “Not good.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jon assured him. “You needed to tell them anyway, right?”
“Yes, tell them!” Damian said. He went to continue – no doubt about how it had
to be on his own terms, so on and so forth. But then his eyes traveled back to
Jon, and he stopped himself. And sighed. “Sorry. You’re lying in a hospital
bed, and I’m making this about me.”
“It’s fine,” Jon said again. “It had to happen eventually. Plus, it was worth
it if I got to kiss you again.”
Jon tugged on his arm again, but Damian hesitated to kiss him again. Jon knew
what he must have been thinking, but he insisted, and eventually Damian leaned
in and offered a single, small peck.
“You should go take a shower,” Jon insisted. “You’re gross.”
“Thanks,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. He stepped back, running his hand
through his hair. It was sweaty and matted, and Damian walked off to take a
shower somewhere in the manor.
Jon tried to sit up straight, but his body felt like it was made of lead. He
needed to eat something, and to see if he could get himself standing before
school tomorrow. Even if he didn’t have his powers, he still needed to go to
school if he could manage it.
Jon realized that his phone was still in his pocket (yes, his suit had pockets
because it was infinitely cooler than other super suits). He managed to get it
out, and unlocked his phone.
Despite not having been used in a while, the battery seemed to have drained
quite a bit on its own over the past day. His phone’s activity was minimal – a
couple of generic Twitter notifications, the odd text from a friend from
school. A text from Kid Flash (he debated changing the contact info to “Wally”,
but decided against it) wishing him to get well soon once he woke up. He
replied to Kid Flash and told him thanks, but then locked his phone and put it
back.
Damian returned about a half hour later. He’d gotten out of his suit, finally –
no doubt it needed washed. Instead he adorned a pair of sweatpants and a tank,
like he was getting ready to work out or something, but instead he just looked
relaxed. His hair was already fixed as it always was.
“Feel better?” Jon asked.
“I should be asking you that,” Damian told him, snickering a little. “Need
anything?”
“Food would be good,” Jon admitted. “You cooking?”
“Unlikely,” Damian told him. Jon smiled, already knowing the answer. “As long
as we’re here, maybe Alfred can whip something up.”
Damian went off to find Alfred, and try to get the pair of them some food. Jon
was grateful – hopefully once he got some food in him, he’d have the energy to
at least get on his own two feet. If he was still hurting like this tomorrow,
he wasn’t sure he could even go to school – and if he did, how he would explain
the condition he’s in.
Jon was on his phone, using the last bit of the battery life when he heard
someone enter the room. He looked up, expecting Damian, but was instead greeted
by Damian’s father.
It was strange seeing him out of his suit – well, his nighttime suit. Rather
than armor and leather and stuff, he was clad in a business suit. Undoubtedly
expensive, and tailored to perfection so that it hugged his body perfectly.
God bless America if this is how Damian would age.
“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked.
“Tired,” Jon admitted. “And weak.”
“Understandable. The red sun generator is no joke – I made it in case I ever
needed to permanently take away a Kryptonian’s powers,” Bruce explained. He was
holding some kind of device that Jon didn’t recognize.
“It can do that?” Jon asked, a little panicked.
“Yes. But it takes more time and energy than you were exposed to,” Bruce
explained. “But this isn’t really an exact science, so I don’t know when you’ll
get your powers back exactly. But...”
Bruce set a device next to his hospital bed – it appeared to be a lamp, but one
of the old-fashioned desk lamps like the one you see bouncing in the Pixar
logo. But there was something different about it he couldn’t quite place –
higher tech, maybe? Jon really didn’t know.
“This is the opposite of that. This is a yellow sun lamp – it should help build
your strength back up, and get your powers back sooner,” Bruce explained.
“Wow. Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Jon thanked him.
“You can call me Bruce – you know that, right?” said Bruce.
Jon nodded. They sat in awkward silence as Bruce tinkered with the gadget, and
Jon immediately started to feel better. He felt like he was in a tanning booth
– oh wait, would that help him actually? Maybe Jon should just go tanning – he
understood that for humans those were bad for you, but maybe Jon would be an
exception in this case.
“Have you thought about what we talked about, Jon?” Bruce asked. Jon’s heart
stopped.
He thought back to that conversation – the night he and Batman went on patrol.
…
“Superboy, hold for a moment,” Batman instructed. It was as if he’d read Jon’s
mind, as Jon had been about to retreat up above the buildings before he’d said
anything. Batman was walking towards the street, though Jon doubted he’d ever
actually go out there, but it seemed he wanted Jon to join him. He floated over
to Batman’s side, landing next to him.
“What is it?”
“I wanted to talk with you for a moment about Robin.”
Jon raised an eyebrow. What did he have to say about Robin – about Damian? It
was weird of him to bring it up out of the blue like that, but he supposed it
must have been important.
“Is everything alright?” Jon inquired.
“I think so. I just had a couple questions...” he trailed off. “What is the
nature of your relationship with my son?”
Jon felt his chest tighten up – oh shit, did Batman know? How could Batman
know?! The only person who knew about his crush on Damian was Raven, and even
that was an accident.
“He’s my best friend,” Jon said, although he felt his voice shake. He cursed
his own nerves – that wasn’t the type of thing that would evade Batman’s
notice. Jon decided he needed to push the conversation further to distract from
it. “Why do you ask?”
“Is that all he is?” Batman asked. “You don’t use ‘teammate’ or ‘colleague’ to
describe him. Why is that?”
Jon shrugged. “When we started working together when we were kids, that’s what
it felt like at first. He drove me nuts, and I think vice versa. But we got
over it – now we’re friends.”
“Just friends?”
Jon chewed his bottom lip. “What else would we be?”
Then Batman paused. He turned to face Jon, looking down at him a little. Jon
wasn’t much shorter than Bruce these days – only by a few inches – but in this
instance, it felt like Batman towered above him. He thought that was more of
his presence than his actual stature.
“Jon,” he began sternly. “If you have something to tell me, please do it.”
Jon hesitated. What the hell do you say in response to that? Sorry, I’m super
gay for your son, Batman! It didn’t exactly roll off the tongue!
“I—” he hesitated. “No. Just friends.”
Batman sighed. He scratched at his chin thoughtfully – the only visible bit of
skin on his body. “Jon. If you have...feelings for my son, that’s okay. I just
want you to know my stance on it.”
Jon’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean?”
“There are too many examples of relationships in our world going sour,” he
began. “Green Arrow and Black Canary are a rare exception. Most of the
time...it’s hard. And it doesn’t work out. People in our line of work put
ourselves in extreme danger every day. And I know that you’re more than capable
of taking care of yourself, and so is Damian.”
Jon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was getting some odd variation of
“the talk” from Batman, who was the father of his crush. It was such an awfully
awkward experience that Jon literally wanted to curl up and die. Batman
appeared equally uncomfortable - to see a crack in that facade of his was crazy
to say the least. This was highly out of character for him, so for Batman to
bring it up at all really said a lot about how much this concerned him.
“Damian has already died once, but we were lucky enough to get him back
somehow,” Batman said. “And I hope I never see it happen again. But the
possibility exists – and I want you to be prepared for what that entails. If
something were to happen between you two, that is.”
Jon hadn’t even noticed his gaze fall downward, embarrassed. He was reminded
again that Batman was considered the world’s greatest detective. It shouldn’t
surprise him that he’d picked up on this – Jon wondered where he had slipped
up, but asking now would only confirm Batman’s theory.
“So I’m asking you this,” Batman said. He turned to face Jon directly, and
place a strong hand on his shoulder. Jon’s eyes widened, and he looked up to
meet his steely gaze. “If you and my son are, or become...involved...please
protect him. And ask the same of him for you.”
Jon didn’t know what to say. He stood in awed silence, and they just stared at
each other.
Batman knew. Damian’s father knew, and not even Damian did. Jon said nothing,
but offered a small nod. Batman released his shoulder, and glanced upwards back
towards the rooftops.
“We should go. We’ve used up enough time, wouldn’t you say, Superboy?”
Jon nodded, and then the two made their way back up. Jon tried not to think of
what had just happened – but he had trouble stopping himself.
They returned to their patrol – Jon was trying more and more to keep up with
Batman, who knew the city like the back of his hand. Even with all his powers,
trying to keep up was almost impossible.
Then suddenly, Batman stopped on the roof, and Damian – Robin – had arrived. He
was in his full gear, with the exception of some armor on one side to leave
room for his cast.
Batman scolded him, and ordered Jon to escort Robin back to his apartment
safely to make sure he didn’t hurt himself, or try to fight someone and get
carried away. Jon did so reluctantly, and admittedly, a little gratefully.
After what had just happened with Damian’s dad, Jon wasn’t sure he could focus
on patrol while he was around.
Then Jon went back, and finished his patrol with Batman. The two stayed mostly
quiet, except for informing each other where to go, and warning each other of
incoming attacks. The Sun was barely starting to peek over the horizon when
Batman called it a night.
“You should go back,” Batman told him. “I’m sure Damian is waiting.”
“Yeah...” Jon replied thoughtlessly. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“Nothing,” Batman replied, a small smirk on his face. “I’ll see you later,
Jon.”
The two parted ways – Batman headed straight towards the Batcave, and Jon flew
up and headed home. It only took a few moments before he was back, landing on
the balcony overlooking the city.
He pulled the door open, rubbing at one of his eyes sleepily. Batman was right
– Damian was still awake.
“You’re still up? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Jon muttered. Damian was
frozen in place, and the two exchanged few words before he went off to shower.
Damian was acting so weird – awkward and stiff (well, stiffer than usual). But
Jon tried to ignore it – after all that was said between him and Batman, it was
hard to look at Damian right now. It was embarrassing – even if Damian didn’t
know.
Jon hurried through his shower, and once done, considered making something to
eat. When he asked Damian if he was hungry, the response was lukewarm. He
approached, and joined Damian on his bed.
“Are you okay?” Jon asked.
“I’m fine. Just tired,” Damian replied. Jon knew it wasn’t true, or at least
the whole story – if Damian were just tired, he would have gone to bed before
Jon had even gotten back. So what was it?
“You sure? You’ve been acting weird ever since your dad asked me to take you
back here,” he pressed. Damian didn’t reply for a few seconds. His eyes trailed
off to a random spot in the room, avoiding Jon’s gaze.
“It’s just...” he began. “While on patrol, before I went to join you, you and
Father were discussing something at the front of that alley. It looked
serious.”
Jon flinched visibly, and he knew Damian had noticed. Shit, Damian saw that.
Was he already there, in person? It struck him as unlikely – if he were, he
wouldn’t have waited so long to confront the pair of them. It was more likely
that Damian was spying on them through security cameras, and then after seeing
the exchange, went out to meet with them.
Jon needed to tell Damian something – anything but the truth. “It wasn’t
anything major,” he lied. “Basically he just wanted me to know that he was
proud of my progress, and that he was glad I had your back out there.”
Jon could see the wheels turning in Damian’s head, but he didn’t speak for
several seconds. “Kent, look at me.” Jon looked over, meeting Damian’s intense
gaze. “Is that what he really said?”
Jon needed to come up with something, but he was tired, and his brain felt like
it had stopped working. “...yes,” he said. It was all he could manage in the
moment.
Jon decided to ask some questions next. Damian informed him that Dick, the
famous “Nightwing” had been over, and that they’d been talking. When Jon
inquired what they were talking about, Jon was given a taste of his own
medicine. “Nothing major,” Damian replied. It stung a little bit, but Jon
didn’t know what else he could do.
The next thing Jon knew, he was waking up in Damian’s bed. Alone, he noted
regretfully – Damian was nowhere to be seen. He stood slowly, stretching his
arms over his head as he got up. He ran a hand through his hair and walked over
towards his bed, retrieving a shirt from the small dresser Damian had provided
for him. He must have crashed mid-conversation with Damian, and he hadn’t even
gotten fully dressed after his shower. And he was hungry when he passed out –
now, he was starving.
He walked out into the living room, where Damian had taken refuge on the couch.
He was sleeping in an awkward position – sleeping on a couch was tolerable in
the best of conditions, but with his cast, it definitely wasn’t ideal. He
looked adorable, though – his face was mashed into the pillow, his cheek
pressed hard into it and his mouth slightly open. The injured arm hung off the
couch, hand and wrist resting on the coffee table.
Jon felt weird about how it all went down. They hadn’t finished talking, and it
was weird. He wanted to do something when Damian got up – breakfast seemed like
a good start.
Jon had loved cooking for a while – his mother was a decent chef, and she’d
taught him a few things over the years. Damian had some pre-mixed pancake
stuff, but just that wouldn’t be enough. Jon was starving, and Damian didn’t
keep any meat in the apartment. He grabbed his spare key and slipped on his
shoes, and quietly exited the apartment to hit the convenience store down the
block. Hopefully they would have bacon or something.
Jon made his way down the elevator and quickly exited the building. He lightly
jogged down towards the center – he wasn’t sure how long Damian would be
asleep, and he wanted to try and have breakfast at least cooking by the time he
woke up. People looked at him somewhat oddly – this random dude in sweatpants
and a dirty t-shirt running down the street definitely wasn’t the weirdest
thing happening in Gotham, but it definitely turned some heads.
Jon got lucky – the store had bacon, and he stuffed whatever cash he had on him
into the man’s hand and told him to keep the change. Jon was usually much more
frugal, but he was feeling generous this morning – and he was in a hurry.
So Jon quickly made his way back to the apartment, and got to work. The pancake
mix wasn’t ideal, but Damian didn’t have the supplies to make them from
scratch, and Jon doubted he had the time to cook like that anyway. He got that
and the bacon going on separate pans, letting everything heat up and start
cooking.
It needed to sit for a few moments before he could start flipping it, so he
stepped back and let it do its work. He turned around, and saw Damian, still
sound asleep.
Jon thought about everything Batman had said – he made it sound like there was
a real chance, like Damian might like him, too. Jon wasn’t as confident. But,
maybe it was easier to see from the outside? And it was hard to get a better
source of information than freaking Batman, the world’s greatest detective.
But then again, Bruce didn’t seem like the kind of guy who was intelligent
about...feelings, and emotions. He seemed cold, calculated – maybe they showed
all the physical signs of liking each other, but it was still a real likelihood
that Damian wasn’t interested. In fact, Jon considered it was a probability.
But Jon knew one thing – he was torturing himself. This couldn’t go on any
longer, and he was going to destroy himself one of these days.
The bacon started to sizzle, and Jon tried distracting himself with cooking. He
soon fell into a rhythm, and whenever he got a free second, he started getting
plates and silverware together.
He heard Damian stirring across the room. No doubt the sounds and smells of
Jon’s endeavors had disturbed him, but it was inevitable anyway, as the food
was almost done. “Morning,” Jon greeted. Damian said nothing for a few seconds.
“You can cook?” Damian asked. He hadn’t said good morning, but Jon was used to
that kind of stuff. He thought back to all the secrecy of last night, so Jon
decided to answer Damian honestly.
“It’s one of the only things I can’t do with super speed, or stuff won’t get
cooked right,” he admitted, going back to flipping his pancakes. “It’s
relaxing. I like cooking when I need to think about stuff.”
Damian didn’t reply. Jon heard him shift, and the soft sounds of his bare feet
moving across the hardwood floors as he approached. “It smells delicious,”
Damian told him. Jon felt his chest warm a little, and not just because he felt
some grease hit his shirt.
“I don’t keep bacon in the house, though,” Damian mused, smelling the pork
cooking a few feet from him. Jon knew he was a vegetarian, but he’d eaten meat
in front of Damian a million times.
“I went out and got some. Pancakes are good and all, but I have a big appetite.
I figured you wouldn’t mind if I had some.”
“No, it’s fine,” Damian insisted.
The food was done. Damian took a seat at the table as Jon began shoveling it
all onto two plates. Damian got an extra pancake in exchange for the mountain
of bacon Jon prepared for himself. He set Damian’s plate down in front of him,
and Jon took his own seat opposite him at the table. The pair began their
feast.
“Good?” asked Jon. Damian’s mouth was full, but Jon saw him nod through a
mouthful of pancake. Jon smiled a little, and thoughtfully chewed on a piece of
bacon.
His mind drifted again to his talk with Damian’s dad – it had to come up
eventually. Damian was acting strange, like he was tip-toeing around his own
words, trying to figure out what had happened. Jon knew how he felt – whatever
he and Nightwing had discussed seemed to have affected him in a similar way.
“Hey, I know things got a little...tense last night. I’m sorry, okay?” Jon
apologized. Damian swallowed, and looked at Jon closely. Damian’s face was
solid – no emotion betrayed through his expressions. Damian was always like
that, though, and it was something that Jon both admired and envied. Jon was
incapable of hiding his feelings like that – it simply didn’t come naturally to
him. He wondered if it was a genetic thing between Damian and his dad. Perhaps
it’s a Wayne family tradition.
“Don’t apologize,” Damian grumbled softly. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of
us.”
Then, Jon’s perception of Damian came crashing down. That wall Damian had built
had a crack in it all of a sudden – he sounded vulnerable.
That was the moment Jon knew he didn’t like Damian – it was the moment he knew
he was in love with him.
And that meant Jon no longer had the right to keep this secret, he owed it to
Damian to be honest. Not to outright admit that he loved him out of the gate,
that’s what crazy people did – but something. He could start with what he and
Batman talked about.
“I guess,” Jon shrugged, trying to keep his nerves in check. “But I still feel
weird about it. I’ll tell you what Batman—what your dad was talking to me
about.”
Damian's interest peaked, and for the first time in a couple minutes, Damian's
gaze turned upwards. This time, though, it was Jon's turn for his eyes to
travel down. He swallowed nervously and continued.
“It was actually really weird,” Jon began. He felt his pulse quicken as he
began to speak. “He-he thought that I had a crush on you or something, and he
was making sure that I would be careful. I told him that it was ridiculous, but
you know how he is.”
Damian sat in complete silence for what felt like forever. Realistically, it
was probably just a few seconds, but Jon felt himself start so sweat while he
waited for Damian to say something.
“That is weird,” Damian agreed. Jon felt his heart drop into his ass. “It’s not
like him to meddle in stuff like that. I mean, today has felt awfully domestic,
but I didn’t think it was anything Father would notice.”
Jon smiled – what did that mean, though? Sarcasm was the language Damian spoke
most fluently, but that seemed like a weird line to cross, even for him. Jon
thought about mentioning that – asking why he would say such a thing, but then
Damian continued.
“Grayson said something similar when he came over,” he admitted. Jon looked at
Damian expectantly. “He said something to the effect of me having feelings for
you, and that I needed to talk to you and work it out. And he was under the
same impression that it was reciprocated.”
Whooooaaaa that was direct.
So not only was Batman pushing this, but now Nightwing, too? It was strange –
like they were all fighting on the same side. Damian sat in silence for a
second, waiting for Jon to respond. But he had nothing to say.
Was this it? The moment that Jon needed to say something, or do something, that
would change everything? He felt his heartbeat speed up – something grabbed
hold of him. A motivation he hadn’t known before, this will to take a chance.
He started with a small step.
“What is it with the people around us thinking we like each other?” Jon asked.
Damian said nothing – at least, not with his words. That cracked wall of
Damian’s came crashing down.
Because Damian blushed, and smiled to himself. He’d never seen that look on
Damian’s face before – he doubted Damian was even aware of it. If he were, he
would have stifled it immediately, or hid his face. But no – Damian was looking
down, right at his plate, and just smiled to himself, bright pink dusted on his
cheeks.
Before Jon could even stop himself, he moved around the table and kissed
Damian.
Jon’s was afraid his worst fear had come true – his lips pressed tightly
against Damian’s, but receiving no response whatsoever. He pulled back, staring
right into Damian’s shocked eyes.
“I...” Damian stuttered, shocked. Jon’s eyes widened in terror.
“Please tell me I didn’t misread this whole situation,” Jon pleaded. “Oh my
God.”
Then Damian reached up, standing, and kissed Jon back. And the rest was
history.
…
“Have you thought about what we talked about, Jon?” Bruce’s words ran through
his mind again. The talk with Batman – that had started all of this. It was the
catalyst between all of what happened. If Batman hadn’t stopped Jon there and
spoken with him, Damian would never have seen them on the security cameras. And
if that hadn’t happened, Nightwing wouldn’t have confronted Damian. And if
Nightwing hadn’t confronted Damian, Jon had no guarantee that Damian would have
ever come to terms with it.
He owed Bruce Wayne – Damian’s father – everything.
“Father,” Damian interrupted. He had returned from finding Alfred to get Jon
something to eat. His hands were empty – no doubt Alfred was still cooking. But
his fists were clenched tight, and his jaw hard. “We need to talk.”
Chapter End Notes
     So I realized that upon posting this, this is now the longest story I
     have ever written, and it's not even over yet. I just wanted to
     reiterate my thanks for all the love and support you've shown for me
     through this story <3 I hope to entertain for many chapters to come!
     xoxo
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter Notes
     So I've gotten a few comments about how Bruce is acting a little OOC.
     It's probably worth mentioning that, where this is set in the future,
     this is in the same universe where he is now married to Catwoman.
     This version of Bruce is how I'd imagine him aging while in a
     relationship. But if you think that's OOC...get ready for more of
     that! :D
“What is it, Damian?” Father asked. Jon’s eyes met Damian’s for only a second,
and Jon knew – this had to happen now.
Damian swallowed. There weren’t many things that scared him – certainly not his
father. And he’d dueled with assassins, super villains, even been killed
before. But something about this conversation unnerved him, and he couldn’t put
his finger on why.
It wasn’t shame, and it wasn’t fear of rejection – neither of those concerned
him. Nothing his Father had said before had ever implied an issue with someone
being in a same sex relationship. And Damian felt no shame about how he felt
towards Jon – but something held him back. Maybe one day he’d figure out what
that was – but today wasn’t that day. Today, he had to force himself through
it.
“Jon and I are...” he hesitated. He swallowed again, and steeled himself to
just say it .”Jon and I have been dating for three months.”
“Really?” Father mused. He turned and looked at Damian – but something about
the way he said it bothered Damian. Father didn’t sound surprised in the least.
“Yes,” Damian confirmed. The three fell silent, taking in the situation –
Damian felt his heart racing, but as always, Father never let his emotions slip
even for a second.
“I see,” Father said softly. His eyes traveled down to Jon, whose face had gone
red, but nodded up at Bruce as well.
Jon spoke up next. “I’m sorry we kept this from you,” he apologized.
“Don’t be,” Father said. “This is something personal, and is nobody’s business
but your own.”
“And that stopped you by interfering with Jon, and sending Grayson to meddle in
it all?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow at his father.
“I don’t think offering my support counts as meddling,” he defended. “And I
sent Dick to make sure you didn’t try to go out on patrol alone and get
yourself hurt.”
Damian wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t want to force the issue. But it was done
– Father knew about their relationship. He hadn’t expected to tell Father
before Jon told his own parents, but it worked out for the best, he thought.
Plus, it wasn’t as if Damian had been acting with the utmost discretion this
past day or so – he had outright refused to leave Jon’s side unless it was to
use the bathroom. That wasn’t your typical “friend” thing to do.
“I’m happy for you both,” Father said. Damian’s eyes widened. “Protect each
other. That’s what matters now.”
Damian wasn’t sure what he was doing with the lamp now shining on Jon, but he
finished tinkering with it. He went to exit the room, and briefly his hand
squeezed on Damian’s shoulder. They spoke no more words, and after a second,
Father was gone.
“Well that’s that,” Jon half-chuckled. “I can’t believe your dad knows before
my parents.”
“Yeah,” Damian mused aloud. “I thought that would be harder for some reason.”
“Me, too,” Jon admitted.
Damian just smiled a little and walked quickly over to Jon’s bed, and kissed
him. This was the kind of kiss he’d wanted – not their slow, hesitant ones
while trying to be sneaky. A real kiss was what he’d been waiting for. Too much
time had passed since he was able to be with Jon the way he wanted to. Even
now, he felt somewhat restrained by trying not to be too…”involved” in front of
his Father or Alfred. But it was better than trying to keep a secret.
“I’m glad that’s over,” Jon smiled.
“We still need to tell your parents,” Damian reminded him.
“I’m not worried.”
“Me either.”
Alfred returned shortly with two plates of food – two burgers, and Damian did
not hesitate to bite into his. He locked eyes with Jon for a second, who seemed
surprised. “Veggie burger,” Damian clarified. “Yours should be normal.”
Jon understood, and devoured his in only moments. He seemed to feel better
almost immediately – it had been a while since he’d eaten, and Damian wouldn’t
doubt if he were still hungry. The fries on the plate – no doubt Alfred had
probably sliced and fried the potatoes himself – didn’t last much longer.
“Oh, I needed that,” Jon said. He glanced up at the lamp shining down on him.
“This thing really works, too. I feel a lot better already.”
Damian raised an eyebrow. “Yellow sun energy, right?” he asked.
“Supposedly it’ll help me get my powers back faster,” Jon explained. “I hope
so.”
“Yeah, me too,” Damian agreed. His eyes drifted again to the giant hole in his
suit. “How’s your burn?”
“It hurts. But the lamp helps dull that, too,” he admitted. “I’m not used to
stuff hurting. This really sucks.”
Damian chuckled a little. “Yeah, it does.”
Jon finished his meal, and sat his plate aside. Damian wasn’t too far behind
him – he hadn’t been eating much since Jon got hurt, so he was probably just
about as hungry as he was.
“Hey, what time is it?” Jon asked.
Damian checked his phone. “6:00. Sun should be coming up soon.”
“6:00 in the morning? Why did we have burgers?”
“I asked Alfred to make burgers,” Damian told him. "What? Did you not like
them?"
Jon shook his head, rolling his eyes a little. "They were fine."
...
They stayed silent for a moment. Jon started shifting in bed, moving the
blanket from off his legs, and then throwing his legs off the side. His feet
dangled only an inch or two off the ground, the tips of his boots barely
brushing the floor.
Jon’s head spun, and Damian stood quickly and put a hand on his leg. "What are
you doing?"
"I want to go outside," Jon said. He tried to stand, but his legs still felt
weak under him. He stood shakily, but almost fell, catching his hand on
Damian's shoulder.
"You should stay in bed," Damian criticized. "You need rest."
"I need natural sunlight," he disputed. "And if I stay in this bed any longer,
I'm going to get bed sores."
Jon wasn’t going to stop, and soon Damian conceded to help him up. He got on
two feet shakily – he could stand, but walking would be a chore. Jon threw his
arm over Damian’s shoulders, and leaned on Damian to support him.
The Batcave only had one elevator, which led straight behind a fake bookshelf
on the first floor of the mansion. It would be their best option – Jon was in
no shape to be going up a shit ton of stairs, and it’s not like they were going
to climb the fireman’s pole back up to the study.
Jon hobbled onto the elevator with Damian’s help, and Damian quickly pressed
the button to take them above ground. It took a few moments – the elevator was
slow, and the cave was a significant distance underground.
But soon enough, the stone walls of the cave around them were replaced with a
sleek panel of wood before the bookshelf cracked open, swinging forward like a
door. Jon readied himself to move again – he was still incredibly weak. His
legs were shaking and he felt his entire body starting to sweat – and that was
on top of the sweat already caking his body, left there after his battle with
Scarecrow and, inadvertently, Damian. He must have smelled as bad as he felt.
Damian helped him through the large main room in Wayne Manor. Usually, Jon
would take the time to examine the room – the beautiful architecture, the
paintings, and so on. But now, Jon was struggling to stay standing.
He felt his head spin again, and almost fell over. If not for Damian catching
him, Jon would’ve just eaten shit. It occurred to him that, without his powers,
landing on his face would actually hurt, and might even break his nose. Why did
humans have to be so fragile?
But Damian was there to help – he helped Jon back up, and Damian put in more
effort to try and keep Jon standing. He set Jon down and opened the door,
propping it open and then going to scoop him back up again. Jon thanked him,
and the two headed outside.
It may be dangerous for Jon to be hanging around outside, not only with a giant
injury on his chest, with no powers, and also to be seen with Damian, but
Damian didn’t seem bothered by it, so Jon tried not to think about it. Dawn was
just breaking – flashes of pink and purple stained the horizon in the distance.
Damian helped Jon to move forward, and set him gently down on the top step
leading up to the mansion. Jon breathed heavily as he was seated, and thanked
Damian wordlessly. Damian took his seat next to Jon, their legs touching.
“You okay?” Damian checked in. Jon was still out of breath and lightheaded, but
nodded in response. “The Sun is coming up. Hopefully that will help.”
Jon looked up, and just the very top of the sphere was visible on the horizon.
The trees obscured his view, peekaboos of light visible between the leaves and
branches. Jon was already feeling better – he was still tired, but he didn’t
feel like he was going to pass out anymore.
The two sat in silence for a while, watching light start to fill the sky. Jon
wasn’t sure who had initiated it, but somehow their hands ended up intertwined,
fingers laced together. Their hands rested on both their legs – Jon’s left and
Damian’s right. Jon glanced over at Damian, whose face was turning just the
lightest shade of pink.
“What?” Damian asked, confused by Jon’s staring.
“Nothing,” Jon replied. “You’re just really cute.”
“Ew,” Damian snorted, and shoved Jon a little with his shoulder.
They sat in silence for a second. Jon’s mind traveled back to the night he last
left Gotham – the night before school started. He was texting Damian, and when
the time came for Jon to get some sleep, he’d almost told Damian something.
Something he shouldn’t have said over text.
But now, they were here. Holding hands, and although the situation wasn’t
perfect, Jon couldn’t think of a better time. The Sun had officially risen, and
Jon was renewed with a new energy – not physically, at least not yet, but
something inside him perked up.
“Hey, Damian,” he began. Damian looked over, raising an eyebrow. Jon felt his
heartbeat speed up, and swallowed nervously. “I love you. You know that,
right?”
Damian stayed silent. His eyes widened for a moment, and then narrow as he
smiled. Damian leaned up and kissed Jon. “I know. I love you, too.”
Jon leaned in, pressing his forehead against Damian’s. They stayed like that
for a while – just comfortably staying close, their lips brushing against the
other’s every few moments. It was intimate, but far from sexual – Jon could
feel that it was love.
“You’re such a fucking sap, Kent,” Damian said, as if reading his thoughts. Jon
laughed and pulled away from Damian, using his free hand to rub the back of his
head.
“Well excuse me for trying to be honest about my feelings,” he joked.
Damian snorted. “Seems like you’re feeling better.”
He was. The longer he sat out in natural sunlight, the more energy he felt
returning to his body. The burn on his chest still felt raw, but no longer
pulsed with pain along with his heartbeat. He felt like he could at least
stand, and probably walk on his own. He could tell his powers hadn’t yet
returned, but he knew that they wouldn’t be gone for long.
But Damian was there. And that was enough.
***** Chapter 21 *****
It took some time and some more sunlight, but his head had cleared and his burn
had vanished almost entirely. His suit was still ruined, but that could be
replaced.
His powers hadn’t fully come back yet. Flying was still touch and go – his mom
ended up having to come and pick him up in Gotham so that he could go to school
on Monday. His strength had yet to make an appearance, but for some reason his
x-ray vision was already back.
Jon felt oddly vulnerable walking into school on Monday. After the insanity
that was the weekend before, it felt insane to go back to how things were. And
without his powers, for the first time in his life, Jon truly felt like he was
merely one in a crowd.
He felt so weak – not that he was still having trouble walking or anything, but
his backpack was heavier than he ever remembered it being. He was essentially
human. Granted, Jon was still a pretty big guy, but he was used to being able
to throw a car over his head.
Jon was fortunate to be his size – nobody wanted to mess with Jon as is, even
if he was a giant nerd. If Jon had a bully problem, today would be an even
worse day.
But regardless, the week went on, uneventful. Soon his flight and his heat
vision were back, and the more he sat out in the sun, the faster he felt
himself returning to normal. His strength still wasn’t what it was before – it
could still be considered super strength, but it wasn’t how it was before. He
had started to worry if it would come back at all, but tried to remain hopeful.
Then the weekend came. He finally had all his powers back (with slightly
reduced strength). Homework had been taken care of – with his powers still
recovering during the week, he didn’t have much of an excuse to procrastinate,
so he was way ahead of schedule. Meaning he had the weekend free, and he was
going to spend the weekend with the Teen Titans.
“You’re sure you want to go?” his mom asked. Jon threw his bag over his
shoulder, and nodded.
“Yeah. They haven’t seen me since I got hurt except for Damian, and I’m sure
they wanna know I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” Jon assured her. She hugged him, and
Jon stepped outside and flew into the sky.
It took about an hour for Jon to reach San Francisco – under normal
circumstances he probably could’ve cut that time in half, but he didn’t want to
push his body too far if he wasn’t ready. He still hadn’t gotten a new suit,
but Damian hadn’t told him about any new missions – they’re most likely just
lounging around or training.
As Jon approached the tower, he saw the jet parked on top of the tower. That
meant Damian was there, but after a quick scan inside the tower using his x-ray
vision, he couldn’t see him lurking around inside. Instead, Damian was outside,
tending to Goliath on the grounds. The giant red beast was laying down calmly,
wings folded up on its back, paws tucked under its chin as it lounged about.
Damian appeared to be feeding him.
Jon flew down, and the older teen turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “What
are you doing here? You should be resting,” Damian scolded him. Jon shrugged.
“I'm feeling better. My powers are mostly back, and I wanted to come see you,”
he insisted. Jon smiled and approached Damian – there didn’t seem to be anyone
around, and he walked up and placed a brief kiss on Damian’s lips. He backed up
quickly.
“Watch it,” he said softly. Damian’s eyes peered around, looking for anyone who
may have seen them. He hadn’t put much thought into it – but they appear to
have gotten away with it.
“Sorry,” Jon said halfheartedly. “Couldn’t help myself.”
Damian rolled his eyes – Jon couldn’t see his real eyes behind his mask, but he
could tell by the “Tt” sound he made and his furrowed eyebrows. Damian turned
and scratched at the monster’s fur.
“How’s the team?”
“Good,” Damian reported. “Relieved that this weekend isn’t nearly as eventful
as last. Flash and Beetle will be happy to see you, and Starfire has been
asking about you, too.”
Jon smiled. He’d already missed being away from the team. Damian peered around
once more, and when he felt confident the coast was clear, he stepped forward
again and planted another soft kiss on Jon’s lips. It only lasted a second, but
Jon smiled anyway.
“I was worried, too, you know,” Damian said. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Jon grinned. “Awww, he was worried about me, Goliath.” Goliath snorted as if on
cue.
“Tt,” Damian snorted. “Honestly, you try to have a moment, and that’s how you
respond...”
Jon laughed and scratched the back of his head. Jon heard feet hit the grass a
few yards back and he turned to look. He saw Garfield standing there, eyes
wide.
“Beast Boy?” Jon asked. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Are you two…?” he trailed off, pointing a single green finger at the pair of
them.
Jon’s blood ran cold, and Damian immediately went rigid. The two exchanged a
glance, and then looked back at Garfield. “What makes you think that?” Damian
asked.
“I was flying down – as a hawk, because I peeked out and saw that Jon was here.
But then as I was flying, you two...”
Damian’s fist clenched, and Jon heard his teeth grinding together. There was no
getting out of this one – they had been caught. And while that wasn’t something
that bothered Jon, it certainly bothered Damian.
“I mean, it’s cool if you are!” Garfield assured him. “I mean, Aqualad and I
are tight, so it’s no big deal. It’s just crazy.”
“What’s so crazy about it?” Damian asked.
“That you’re with anyone,” Garfield teased, gesturing towards Robin. Damian
scowled at him. “But why not tell us?”
“Does it strike you as being any of your business?” Damian snapped. Jon turned
and faced his boyfriend.
“Easy,” Jon said softly. “This isn’t his fault. It had to happen eventually.”
Damian huffed, and took a deep breath, then met Jon’s eyes. He nodded, and then
looked back at Garfield. “Sorry.”
The three of them stood in silence for a moment. Garfield shuffled anxiously,
not sure of what to say, and Damian stared off into the distance in complete
silence. Jon sighed, and spoke up.
“Yes, Damian and I are together,” he confirmed. “We have been for a few months.
Sorry we didn’t tell you.”
“Nah, it’s good,” Garfield waved him off. “I get it, personal stuff. We still
don’t even know Robin’s secret identity, so this kind of stuff probably crosses
a line. I get it.”
Damian nodded. He chewed on his lip thoughtfully, and then looked almost
pleadingly at Garfield. “I don’t suppose it’s too much to ask for you to keep
this a secret, is it?”
Garfield looked surprised. “Uh – I mean I guess not, but I’m not much good with
secrets. I mean, I don’t even have a secret identity.”
“Gar, you’re green,” Jon teased.
“Yeah but still,” he said. “I’m not used to it. But if you need me to...”
“No,” Jon cut in. Damian locked eyes with Jon for a second, but Jon stood his
ground. “Damian, this has gone on long enough. What can it hurt to tell them?”
Damian didn’t look scared – more agitated, really, but Jon could tell he didn’t
like the idea of it. Enough was enough.
Damian said nothing for a long time. Jon turned and faced him, and grabbed his
hand a little – by reflex his hand jerked back, his eyes flickering back over
to Garfield for a second, but then conceded as Jon grabbed it. “...okay,” he
surrendered.
Jon sighed with relief. It would be nice to get all this weight off of Damian’s
shoulders so that they didn’t need to be so discreet all the time. The three of
them made their way back towards the tower, and made their way into the
elevator.
They stood in silence for a second, Damian grasping Jon’s hand harder than
ever. Garfield broke the silence after a few moments of nothingness.
“So between you two, who tops?”
“Do not,” Damian warned him. Gar just smiled and turned his gaze forward again,
not really wanting an answer in the first place.
The doors opened and the three of them filed into the main room. Damian’s hand
started to slip away from Jon’s, but Jon tightened his grip as a reminder of
what needed to happen. Damian still felt uncomfortable – he wasn’t one for
public displays of affection in general, but this was a gesture, and was
appropriate for the situation.
They crossed into the main room, and Garfield headed straight towards Beetle
and Flash, who were sitting together on the couch. Aqualad, Raven, and Starfire
were all sitting separately from them, but their eyes all traveled upwards as
the group entered. Damian and Jon hovered towards the entrance to the room,
their hands still together.
“Hey guys,” Kid Flash greeted. His eyes locked on their hands, then traveled
back up to meet theirs. “Uhh...what’s going on?”
“We have something to tell you,” Jon began. Damian’s grip tightened as if
resigning himself to the fact that if he couldn’t pull it away, he’d use Jon’s
hand to exercise his frustration.
“Uhhh….okay?” Beetle asked. Jon’s eyes traveled over to him, and it was weird
seeing him not in his armor. Jaime watched them closely. “I guess it has
something to do with...this?”
The boys nodded in unison. “Superboy – Jon and I are...” Damian hesitated.
“Dating. We have been for a few months.”
The room was silent except for the sound of Aqualad closing his book and
setting it on the table in front of him. They all looked at each other in
confusion and then back at the boys.
“I was starting to think Robin wasn’t ever going to get any,” Jaime said. His
eyes traveled over to Kid Flash. “Alright, pay up.”
Kid Flash grumbled something under his breath and handed a few dollars over to
his friend. In the corner of his vision, Jon also caught money being passed
from Aqualad to Starfire.
“You all had bets that we’d get together?” Jon asked, half-laughing at how
ridiculous it was.
“Of course not,” Starfire defended.
“We had bets on whether or not Robin was ever going to be with anyone,” Jaime
said. “Which means Gar, you owe me, too.”
“Damn, I thought you’d forgotten.”
Jon’s eyes traveled over to Damian, who just stood there in shock. It wasn’t
what either of them had expected – but none of them had any protests. And
logically, Damian must have known that none of them would care if he were
seeing Jon. Between Aqualad already being gay, and the fact that they honestly
have bigger fish to fry at any given time, it was a silly thought to begin
with. Jon suspected it had something to do with this deep, primal need to feel
accepted.
Damian’s mouth opened as if to speak, but then shut again. His hand squeezed
even harder on Jon’s, and Jon’s thumb rubbed on the back of Damian’s hand
gently.
“We’re happy for you, Damian. Jon,” Starfire told them. “You know that we
support you in whatever you do.”
Jon smiled, and though Damian still appeared to be in shock, after a second, he
smiled, too. “Alright, then. I’m going to get started on our weekly report to
Batman.”
And just like that, it was business as usual. Damian turned on his heel and
went to exit the room, and Jon followed closely. Damian peered over his
shoulder and saw that Jon was following, and a small smile tugged at the corner
of his mouth.
He and Jon entered Damian’s room, the automatic door shutting behind them.
Damian hit a button that initiated the lock, and pulled the mask from his face.
Jon smiled and just as he was about to speak, Damian crashed his mouth against
Jon’s, fists curling in the front of his shirt to pull them closer together.
Jon gasped into his mouth, surprised, but then grinned and pulled Damian
closer. The two stood there in near total darkness for a few moments, finally
drinking in the moment for the first time in far too long. Damian broke the
kiss off and, in the cloak of darkness, grinned widely. Jon could see him – but
he didn’t mention that.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” he simplified. Damian nodded. “I’ve missed that.”
“Me too,” Damian admitted. He pulled away from Jon and led him over towards the
bed, and the two took a seat on the mattress. “Things have been crazy lately.
Between Scarecrow and dealing with my Father, and now the Titans...everything
has worked out.”
“It’s about time something went right for us,” Jon smiled. His fingers
interlaced with Damian’s, and they both squeezed lightly. “We still need to
tell my parents.”
“How did both my Father and the team find out before them?” Damian half-
chuckled.
“Man, who knows,” Jon sighed. “But it’ll happen soon. I swear.”
“Good,” Damian grinned. “Because I’m sick of sneaking around like this. Finally
one thing in our lives can not be a secret.”
“That’ll be a switch,” Jon snorted. The two sat in silence for a long time, the
only contact between then being the warm hands clung to the other’s. Jon felt
how warm Damian was, and how still. He glanced over at Damian, who was just
contently staring off into space.
“Does it ever bother you?” Jon asked. Damian raised an eyebrow at Jon, but Jon
didn’t need to guess what he was thinking. “All the secrets, the lies we have
to tell. The team doesn’t even know who you really are. Doesn’t that bother
you?”
Damian said nothing for a long time, his eyes going forward again. His hand
never left Jon’s. “When I was a child with the League of Assassins, they taught
me that secrecy was to be valued above all else. That it was their invisibility
that granted them the greatest power – no blade or weapon could surpass it. So
keeping secrets became second nature very quickly.”
“And you were okay with that?” Jon asked.
“I didn’t know any better. Still don’t, really,” Damian said casually. “But
that was one of the good things I learned from the League. We’re at our most
effective in secret – even if the public knows who we are, keeping these
identities a secret allows us the ability to act more freely. And it keeps the
people around us safe.”
Jon had heard the speech before – the reason he couldn’t use his powers in the
open, the reason none of his friends from school could know who he really was.
“You never talk about your time with the League,” Jon said. Damian didn’t reply
for a long time, choosing instead to stay silent and think for several moments.
“I don’t have many good memories there,” Damian admitted. “Not that living with
my Father was a vacation, but anything beats the League of Assassins.”
Jon chewed on that for a few moments – he had no stories like that at his
disposal to share in this kind of situation. Jon’s childhood had been great.
Loving parents, a stable home, super powers. There was little that he could
really complain about without sounding like a spoiled brat.
But Damian...he’d had it rough. Jon thought about it from time to time, how
strong Damian was to deal with that kind of stuff. It was incredible he was as
stable as he was. And even now that he was living away from his dad, he was
still bombarded by training and missions and so on and so forth.
Damian was so strong.
Jon’s hand curled around the back of Damian’s neck, and as he turned to look up
at Jon, Jon pressed their lips together for a few moments and then pulled back
again. Damian looked confused, but not disappointed by the kiss.
“I love you,” Jon said. Damian’s face didn’t budge, but Jon could see the smile
in his eyes. They kissed again briefly, and Damian muttered the same phrase
back against Jon’s lips.
Jon was about to speak again when a huge, red flashing light poured into the
room. An alarm sounded, but was soon muffled by Starfire’s voice over the
intercoms.
“Robin, Superboy, we have an emergency. Get to the main room,” she reported.
Jon and Damian exchanged a glance.
“I don’t have a suit,” Jon told him.
“I have a mask and hoodie you can wear. We’ll make it work, let’s go.”
***** Chapter 22 *****
Jon and Damian sprinted through the halls of Titans Tower to the main room,
where the rest of the gang had gathered. They had just finished suiting up and
were all gathered around the large screen that had replaced the large glass
window.
“What’s going on?” Damian asked. He’d barely remembered to put on his mask
before the two sprinted from Damian’s room to go out and join the others.
“Unknown. Some kind of emergency in Metropolis,” Starfire reported. “Superman
is currently occupied with another emergency somewhere overseas, and we have
been called in to handle it.”
Kid Flash was manning the computer, trying to figure out what was happening,
and finally managed to bring up a live feed of something happening in
Metropolis.
A giant purple, oozing monster was attacking some kind of sewage plant on the
outskirts of the city, picking up giant barrels of sludge and pouring it down
the hatch.
“God, what is that thing?!” Jon asked, a bit grossed out by the sight before
him.
“Plasmus?” Robin asked. It was almost a little anti-climactic from the way he
said it.
“You know that thing?” Jon asked.
Beast Boy nodded. “Slade used to control it, but we haven’t seen that thing in
years. I totally forgot about him until just now.”
“But he’s dangerous, and we need to take care of him,” Damian said. “If Plasmus
is causing trouble, Cinderblock and Overload may also be in the city. We need
to be ready. Wheels up in ten minutes, let’s go.”
Damian and Jon sprinted back to get ready for the mission. Damian only took a
minute or two to get into his suit, and then grabbed a hoodie and a mask from
his closet. It was the same mask Jon had worn when working as a vigilante in
Gotham, and he wasn’t looking forward to wearing it again, but he had few other
options. Jon pulled the hoodie on, noticing that it was a perfect fit. He
remembered suddenly that Jon had forgotten it at the tower one weekend, and
Damian had kept it.
“You kept my hoodie?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
“Really? Now?” Damian asked. Jon could tell he was embarrassed and smiled a
little before zipping it up, and pulling the hood onto his head. The two ran
out from his room and onto the roof, quickly joining the others on the jet.
Damian took the pilot’s seat, and the Teen Titans blasted into the sky.
It was a short flight back to Metropolis. It felt weird to be doing this in his
own city – usually if giant monsters showed up, Superman went to fight the
battle, not Jon, and especially not the entirety of the Teen Titans. But if his
dad was busy, and if the Teen Titans had tangled with this thing before, it
made sense that they would be first in line to take it down.
The jet hovered in place high above the city, and the group all descended from
the hatch onto a nearby rooftop. Starfire carried down Aqualad, and Jon grabbed
Damian, as they were the only two that couldn’t fly, and settled down.
The city parted around the sewage plant, which Plasmus seemed to have moved on
from. It was a total wreck – drums of waste lay empty, only traces of it
scattered all over the place. The workers had begun to come out of hiding,
realizing the danger had passed, but hadn’t yet started clean up. They were
going around, talking to everyone, making sure that everyone is okay.
“Plasmus is gone,” Beetle reported. “Scarab is scanning the city for any sign
of him, but no luck yet.”
“Is there anywhere else in the city where more sewage or nuclear waste would be
stored?” Aqualad asked.
“There’s a power plant about a mile outside the city,” Jon reported. “And
another sewage plant on the other city of the city.”
Robin divided them into two teams; Starfire would lead Raven, Aqualad, and
Beast Boy to the power plant, as it was the closer location. Robin, Superboy,
Blue Beetle, and Kid Flash would head across town and look into the other
sewage plant.
“And report in if Cinderblock or Overload make an appearance. Slade is still in
prison, so I don’t think he’s controlling them this time,” Robin stated.
“Alright, Titans. Let’s move out.”
The team split up and went their separate ways. Jon grabbed Robin by his arm
and the pair of them lifted into the air and flew over the cities towards
another sewage plant. It didn’t take long – Metropolis was a big city, but the
size didn’t matter much when you could fly as fast as they could, and when Kid
Flash could run from one side of the city to the other in mere seconds.
“Kid Flash, what do you see?” Robin asked over the comms. Kid Flash had already
arrived.
“Looks like he’s already been through here. It’s–“ the transmission cut out.
The three remaining in the air all shot worried glances at each other and
quickened their pace towards the plant.
They finally crossed over the last building obstructing their view of the
plant, and it was much more recent than the plant across town. Purple sludge
was scattered everywhere – Plasmus had definitely been through here. Kid Flash
was nowhere to be seen, but as the group touched down at the entrance to the
plant, Robin had an idea.
“Superboy, use your x-ray vision to scan the plant to see if Kid Flash is
here,” Robin ordered.
Jon did. His eyes could see everything in the plant, including the workers
huddling in some kind of control room, hiding from the monster. The monster was
nowhere to be seen, but Jon was able to spot Kid Flash trapped under a mound of
sludge, pinned to the wall of a nearby shed of some kind.
Jon dropped Damian off on the ground and flew over. The smell as he got closer
to the sludge was horrendous, and Jon’s eyes started to water as he dove his
hands into the sludge, grabbing Kid Flash by the shoulders and freeing him.
Kid Flash’s eyes flew open and he gasped for air, coughing up the gross
substance onto the ground. He barely restrained himself from throwing up.
“Jesus, that’s awful,” he groaned.
“Are you alright? What happened?” Jon asked.
“Plasmus was here. But he’s gone,” Kid Flash reported. “Some big stone thing
was here too. I’m guessing that’s Cinderblock?”
“You guessed right,” Robin replied. “They must be trying to power Plasmus up
together. We need to rendezvous with the other team – if he’s hit both sewage
plants now, he’ll head for the power plant next.”
The team moved out again. Flash decided to run ahead again – it didn’t work out
great the first time, but at least now he’d be able to meet up with the rest of
the team.
Jon heard screaming as they flew over the city, and peered down onto the
street. A giant gray monster was stomping through the streets indiscriminately
– he didn’t look to be attacking, merely traveling. But as a giant monster,
that meant a lot of people were still in danger.
“Not good,” Jon said aloud, yelling slightly over the sound of the wind.
“Beetle, take Robin and go back up the others at the Power Plant. I’ll take
care of that thing.”
“You sure man?” Beetle asked. Robin went to protest, but Jon tossed him through
the air, only to be caught by Blue Beetle a second later.
“Superboy, don’t go without backup!” Robin ordered. Superboy rolled his eyes.
“You’re not even back at your full strength yet, are you?”
“Please, you act like I’ve never fought a giant monster like that before,” Jon
rolled his eyes. “I’m fine! I promise, I still hit harder than that thing. And
if anything goes wrong, I’ll radio you in.”
Robin chewed on it for a second. “Fine. But I’m calling Starfire as backup.”
Jon nodded, and flew down towards Cinderblock. Jon heard Damian go over the
radio and request for Starfire to meet him, and then they flew on towards the
power plant.
Jon didn’t intend for Starfire to have any work to do. One giant rock monster?
Easy. Jon knew he hit harder than that thing, and moved faster.
It was going down Luthor Ave., tearing up the concrete as it walked. Its huge,
blocky arm bumped a telephone pole and knocked it over, a shower of sparks
raining over a row of cars. People were screaming and running in every
direction, and Jon really wished he had his suit. This stupid mask/hoodie combo
made him look like a thug, not a superhero.
Regardless, he had few other options, and this thing needed to stop moving. The
street was pretty much clear, and about to open into the plaza in front of
Lexcorp. Works for me, Jon thought. He flew down and dove between the
buildings, flying about even with the monster’s head. If it had heard Jon
coming, it gave no sign of that, so Jon flew as fast as he could behind it and
knocked it right in the back of the head.
The beast lurched forward about fifty feet, a huge boom sounding out as it hit
the ground face-first. Dirt and gravel shot out from under where he hit,
scattering in every direction, and the buildings shook.
One giant stone hand pushed itself upward until the monster was standing
straight again. It turned slowly, its huge, square-ish head spun until Jon
could see its flat, red eyes. It looked pissed, but the expression seemed to be
literally carved into stone.
But for a moment, confusion seemed to pass over it after it saw that a single
dude in a hoodie was the one who messed him up. Jon was still flying a few feet
in the air, and Cinderblock didn’t seem to keen on just moving on without
confrontation.
The beast said nothing, merely charging forward with a stone fist raised high.
It was faster than Jon had anticipated, but nothing he couldn’t handle – Jon
readied himself and as the fist came to hit him, Jon put both hands out to
catch it.
It hit harder than expected, and instead of Cinderblock being stopped in its
tracks, Jon got slugged. He flew back a whole city block, his back hitting the
ground and then rolling a few times for good measure. He finally came to a
stop, groaning as he got back on his feet.
“Oh, it’s going to be like that, then,” Jon grumbled to himself. The huge
monster was still visible down the street, and Jon launched himself back into
the air, this time staying even with its gut as he put both fists out in front
of him. His hood whipped off his head with the wind, and for only a moment, Jon
tore the mask off his face so that he could blast it in the face with his heat
vision. It roared and stumbled back slightly, and Jon used that to knock the
creature down again. Jon’s strength still wasn’t all the way back, but he had
more than enough to take this thing down.
It finally hit the ground with a loud...groan, maybe? Jon slipped his mask on
and landed on the thing’s chest.
“So, quick question. Can you be knocked unconscious?” Jon asked. The monster
didn’t reply in any sane way, just roared in Jon’s face. “Yeah, that’s about
what I expected.”
Jon slammed his fist into the thing’s forehead, and the back of its head hit
the ground hard. It craned its not-neck again and yelled, and Jon punched it
again. Jon felt like he was bullying this poor thing on the playground, but
without his full strength, it’s not like he could suplex this thing over his
head like a gorilla with an empty suitcase.
“Please just shut up,” Jon pleaded, knocking its forehead with his fist for a
sixth time. It was starting to get bored of this as well, and Jon felt
something tug at the back of his sweatshirt. Jon gasped as two huge stone
fingers pinched it, and threw him directly into the sky. The beast started to
get back up, but Jon steadied himself in the air, and thought of a better plan.
If he couldn’t knock him out, he’d restrain him.
Jon wasn’t sure if his frost breath had come back – he wasn’t really an expert
with this one to begin with, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Jon took a deep
breath, and forced it back outwards down towards the ground.
At first, it was just his regular super breath, which didn’t seem to bother the
stone monster all that much. But then, Jon managed to get the breath to turn
cold. The clear air instead became filled with a sort of mist, and ice began
forming around the monster below him. It wouldn’t hold him forever, but it
seemed restrained at least for now.
Jon was out of breath by the time Cinderblock was totally immobile. He landed
back on the ground a few feet away from it, and fell back on his butt to take a
rest. He took some slow, deep breaths, and turned on his earpiece.
“Robin, it’s Superboy,” Jon said. He paused, and wiped some sweat off his
forehead. “Cinderblock is incapacitated. How are things on your front?”
“Been better,” Robin admitted. Jon could hear fighting through the open
channel, including Blue Beetle screaming something (probably profanities) in
Spanish. “You two get to the power plant and assist.”
Jon had nearly forgotten about Starfire, who flew down from over the rooftop
and landed between him and Cinderblock. “I see my assistance was not needed,”
she said.
“Nah, he was cake,” Jon simplified. Jon decided he’d leave out the part where
Cinderblock knocked him down two city blocks.
“Um, excuse me?” someone said. Jon and Starfire turned to the source of the
voice to see a girl. She was probably somewhere in the range of 14 or 15 years
old. Jon didn’t recognize her from school, but it was a big school in a big
city.
“Hey,” Jon greeted. “You really shouldn’t be out here. It’s dangerous.”
“I know. But...who are you?” she asked. She was holding a little notepad and a
pen, he noticed.
“Oh, I’m Superboy,” he said. The girl looked confused. “Sorry, I know the
costume isn’t my usual getup. I’m waiting on a replacement for my old one that
got wrecked when I was in Gotham.”
“Oh, hi, Superboy,” she said. “Thank God. I thought there was another
Kryptonian running around now.”
Jon just smiled. Yeah, that would definitely be something else.
“Superboy, we need to go assist the others,” Starfire reminded him.
“Oh, right,” Jon said. He’d been distracted by the girl.
“Is everything alright?” the girl asked.
“Another monster is attacking the power plant just outside the city,” Jon
explained. “No worries, we’ve got this. Let’s go, Starfire.”
He waved goodbye to the girl, and the two of them rocketed up into the sky.
It didn’t take long for the pair of them to start seeing the carnage at the
power plant. It was similar to the scene at the sewage plants, but still in
progress. The titans were battling Plasmus – a huge amalgamation of purple goo
and those weird, green orbs that looked like they might have been eyes. Robin
was tossing explosives at it, Raven was hitting it with empty barrels, Kid
Flash was distracting it, and Blue Beetle was hitting it with everything he
could without blowing the whole plant sky high. Aqualad and Beast Boy were
putting themselves between Plasmus and the few employees still trapped inside,
and trying to get them to safety.
“Plasmus appears much larger than the last time we fought him,” Starfire said.
“And the old techniques we used to fight him are no longer effective.”
“How did you stop it before?” Jon asked.
“The last time, Blue Beetle was able to use a machine to put it to sleep. When
the host at the center of Plasmus is asleep, his powers fail. But it seems that
this method is no longer effective,” Starfire said, catching Jon up to speed.
Jon thought about hitting him with his heat vision, but in a nuclear power
plant, that didn’t seem like the best idea. Super strength would mean little
against something like that, where Jon couldn’t even get a solid grip on it.
And punching Plasmus would only get himself stuck, which is the last thing he
needed.
Starfire no longer hesitated, flying straight down towards the monster and
lighting it up with some starbolts. She was calculated in how she threw, and
knew it was with more restraint than she usually would have. The location was
limiting their ability to take this thing down – they needed to move it
elsewhere.
Jon suddenly had an idea that he hated. “You said that someone is inside that
thing, right?” he asked. The lines were all silent for a second.
“Yes, right at the center. Why?” Starfire asked. Jon sighed, and the monster
roared again. Its gross, purple, pulsing arms were extended on either side of
it, and it roared again as it started to charge at Blue Beetle. Jon had an
idea, and he wasn’t sure if it was even a good one, but he was going to try it.
Jon flew down and planted himself between Blue Beetle and Plasmus, tore off his
mask and blasted it with its heat vision. He tried cutting a circle out of the
middle of its chest, but the goo seemed to fill in the slices that appeared in
its...skin? God, this thing was gross.
Jon tried to speed up how quickly he was cutting the circle to little success,
but eventually resigned himself to the fact that he was going to do what he was
going to have to do. Jon put the mask back on, took a deep breath, and shut his
mouth tight.
He flew forward, arms extended, directly into the monster’s chest. He punched
through it and felt his fist connect with something solid, and it flew back out
the other side. Jon’s hand was firmly stuck, but the monster stopped moving –
in fact it froze in place for a moment, then the mucus-like substance started
to lose shape. Jon pulled harder and harder but it was like something was
clamped around his arm, and even with all Jon’s strength, he couldn’t break
free. He wondered if his full strength would have even been enough as the goo
continued to cover him. As the figure collapsed, it dragged him down until he
was standing in a pool of it, and it was still building up.
“Superboy, are you stuck?” Kid Flash yelled.
“I’m not staying because I like the smell!”
Jon continued tugging at it to no avail. Starfire flew up and hovered a foot or
so above Jon’s head, and leaned down to curl her arms under his armpits. The
pair of them managed to pry Jon free, and the both of them were thrown back,
not expecting the grip to break when it did.
Jon tumbled onto the ground with a grunt. His legs were almost entirely covered
in that sludge – these poor jeans would never survive the encounter. Jon’s
hoodie was pretty messed up, too, with one of his arms soaked in sludge and his
chest had a fair amount on it, too. Amazingly, the only thing spared from the
nastiness was Jon’s face.
He forced himself to stand just in time for Damian to walk over, fist balled
up, and knock Jon on the side of the head. “Ow, what the fuck?” Jon asked.
“What the hell was that?” Damian asked. “You just threw yourself face-first
into a giant sludge monster. What kind of plan was that?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Jon asked.
“This time,” Damian said, sighing a little. “You’re half Kryptonian, but you
still need to be careful. And you’re not back at full strength yet, which only
added to the stupid.”
Jon scratched at the back of his head. Damian rolled his eyes and stepped
forward, placing a small, gentle kiss on Jon’s mouth. It caught Jon off-guard,
and he thanked the stars again that he hadn’t gotten any of of that sludge on
his face. He just smiled and scratched awkwardly at the side of his mask.
“Who are you?” Beast Boy asked. Jon and Damian didn’t know who he was talking
to, so the two of them looked towards him for an explanation. His eyes were
looking towards the entrance to the power plant. There, Jon saw two people
standing, looking very confused.
Jon didn’t recognize the taller one, a middle-aged lady clutching tightly on
her purse with one hand. The other was on the shoulder of the shorter girl, and
strangely enough, Jon did recognize her.
“Aren’t you the girl from the square?” Jon asked. It was a rhetorical question
– Jon knew who she was. He met her just a little while ago, after he beat
Cinderblock.
But there was something else weird – she was holding a camera, pointed directly
at he and Damian.
Oh shit.
***** Chapter 23 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey guys! So I have some notes at the end of the chapter, stuff I
     don't want to clutter your brain up with too much beforehand haha. So
     make sure to check those out! Also this chapter is meta as fuuuuck so
     get ready lmao.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Damian was humiliated.
He’d had it rough recently, what with everyone finding out about him and Jon.
He kept telling himself that he isn’t ashamed of his relationship, and that was
absolutely the truth – but something kept him from wanting people to know, and
he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. Jon was the more level-
headed of the two when it came to this kind of stuff, and although Damian
didn’t want to say it aloud, Jon was the only thing getting him through it.
Then he ruined everything. By kissing Jon in that stupid power plant, he’d
ruined it. Because that girl with the camera ran a blog.
It wasn’t anything that would’ve gotten attention before – blogs and articles
about all the world’s superheroes were far from uncommon. While trying to do
good for the world, a lot of people seemed to treat them like Disney
characters. The stories, the drawings, so on and so forth. It annoyed Damian
more than anything.
However, a particular subset of these crazies insisted on the fact that many of
these heroes were gay, especially with each other. It wasn’t anything outside
the realm of possibility (obviously), but it did read as rather invasive when
it was about real people.
Damian didn’t know if this girl’s blog was one of those, but it didn’t matter –
once the photo of Robin and this other boy kissing was online, it went viral
within hours.
At first, it was met with the usual skepticism – photoshop was a powerful too,
and the image could easily have been manipulated. Plus, Superboy wasn’t in his
usual attire, and although the girl wrote that the boy was Superboy and was
using Kryptonian powers, not everyone bought that aspect of it. However, the
time frame between when that photo went up and when the power plant situation
hit the news was too close, and people began to realize that at least the part
of Robin kissing a boy was real.
And when that news reached the Daily Planet, Jon’s parents found out about them
in the most awkward way possible.
Once Plasmus was dealt with, the team waited for ARGUS to arrive to take
Plasmus and Cinderblock to a secure facility. Once they’d been cleaned up,
everyone headed back to Titans Tower. Jon and Damian said little on the way
back, both considering the consequences of what had happened.
The pair of them spent the night in Titans Tower. When they awoke, Jon saw that
he had a text from his mom. Come home soon. Looks like we need to talk.
Jon seemed less bothered by the text than Damian was. Lois never struck Damian
as being mean, but something about the way she phrased it seemed...stern? This
was more the reaction Damian had expected from his own father, but never from
Jon’s mom.
Jon was more aggravated by the fact he needed to leave Titans Tower early –
he’d planned on spending the weekend with the team, but based on recent events,
it seemed that would no longer be possible.
“Do you want me to come, too?” Damian asked. He asked begrudgingly, secretly
hoping Jon would say no, but knowing that he wanted to be there for Jon if he
was needed.
“Would you?” Jon asked. “I’m sure they’d like to talk to you, too.”
Fuck. Well, Damian had nobody to blame but himself.
So rather than Jon flying, Damian flew the pair of them back to Gotham on the
jet, and then they got on Damian’s motorcycle. Metropolis wasn’t a very long
drive from Gotham, and it beat Damian being carried all the way back to
Metropolis by Jon. Plus it would save Jon another flight back to Gotham later
to drop Damian off.
Damian let his thoughts wander as the two headed towards Metropolis, Jon’s arms
wrapped around his waist. What exactly were they walking into? This felt oddly
confrontational, like Robin should be the one showing up to Jon’s house, not
Damian.
“Relax,” Jon insisted, halfway yelling over the sound of the wind in their
ears. It was almost impossible to make out what Jon was saying between both of
their helmets and the wind, but Damian managed.
He didn’t bother responding, though. Damian couldn’t even bring himself to
drive at his usual speed – for once in his life, Damian was actually driving
the speed limit. It was his own way of delaying the inevitable, even though
there was basically no use in it.
Eventually, Jon’s family’s farm appeared in the distance. Damian felt his pulse
quicken and he swallowed nervously – Jon must have noticed, and he felt the
grip around his waist intensify for the remaining few moments of their drive.
Damian kicked the brake stand and turned off the bike. He pulled off his own
helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, and turned to retrieve Jon’s
helmet as well. He hung the pair of them off the handles and dismounted the
bike.
“You ready?” Jon asked. Damian felt his cheeks flush, and scolded himself for
not being able to control himself better. Jon was the one confronting his
parents, so why was Damian so damn nervous? And what’s more, Jon was the one
checking on him when it should have been the other way around.
Damian steeled himself. He looked at Jon, and really examined him – Jon was
nervous, too. He was faking his confidence, but Damian could see the cracks
starting to form as the situation grew nearer.
“I’m good,” Damian said, keeping his voice level. “Are you?”
Jon nodded. Damian squeezed his hand for just a brief second, and then let go
as the two started walking towards the front door.
Jon entered first, turning the handle and pushing his way inside the house.
Damian followed after and closed the door behind them.
“Jon? Is that you?” a voice called out. It was Jon’s mom – she seemed to be in
the kitchen, as Damian could also hear the sink running.
“Yeah,” Jon answered. He took a step towards the kitchen, but then Lois spoke
again.
“Your father’s in the living room, why don’t you go sit down?” she called.
Damian’s heart skipped, and prayed that Clark couldn’t hear that – after all,
this was Superman they were talking about.
He knew that it was a real possibility – in fact, that it was probable that
Jon’s father would be here. A small part of him had hoped that he wouldn’t be,
but Damian figured that was probably too much to ask for.
The pair of them exchanged a brief, nervous glance, and headed towards the
living room. Sure enough, Clark was in the arm chair, reading the front page of
the daily planet. Surely one of them had written it – most likely Jon’s mother
– and it was about none other than Robin and this “masked boy” that they all
knew was Jon.
“Hello, boys,” Clark greeted. He was facing the other way, but Clark peered
over his shoulder to glance at the pair of them. Damian half expected him to be
smoking a pipe the way he was sitting, but surely the high and mighty Superman
would never engage in such an activity.
Damian thought about where he should sit. For a moment, he wondered if sitting
too close to Jon would be inappropriate given the circumstances, but then
sitting too far away may seem disrespectful. He knew he was overthinking this,
but couldn’t stop himself. Before he could make a decision, though, Jon made
his way over to the aptly-named loveseat and sat to one side, leaving an empty
spot right next to him. Damian had no choice but to follow him over and take
the empty spot, their thighs pressed against each other.
They both sat silently, expecting Clark to say something, but he never did. He
seemed to scan the front page a few times, and then moved on to glance through
the rest of the paper.
Damian looked at Jon, who seemed just as confused as he was. “So...” Jon
started, but Clark waved him off.
“We’re waiting for your mother,” he said quickly. His tone wasn’t angry –
Damian couldn’t quite place what it was, but it wasn’t excitement. Damian
steeled himself, his chin held high. He wouldn’t be scolded by some boy scout.
But he would wait for Lois to arrive.
Soon she did, apparently having finished up some dishes in the kitchen. “Sorry,
I wasn’t sure how long you would be, so I decided to get started on the
dishes,” she explained as she entered the room. “Oh, Damian. I didn’t realize
you were here.”
“Figured I should probably tag along,” Damian said. “You know, given the
circumstances.”
“Yeah,” Lois agreed. “So...how long have you two been...together?”
Damian swallowed nervously. On cue, he and Jon exchanged a glance with each
other. Jon’s hand sneaked over and landed on top of Damian’s, whose hand had
been clenched on his own knee.
“A few months,” Jon said. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”
“You should be,” Clark said. Damian was surprised to hear him speak so sternly.
“You know we don’t keep secrets in this family.”
“Says Superman to Superboy,” Jon half-scoffed.
“Not from each other,” he said. “But that’s forgivable. But now that the public
knows about Robin, that creates a new problem.”
Jon’s hand retracted from Damian’s. “What are you talking about?” Jon asked.
Lois scratched her wrist, eyes trailing off somewhat awkwardly. “The world saw
Robin kissing a boy. Some people think it was Superboy, some people think it
wasn’t. Regardless, it creates a problem if you two are seen together in public
as your regular selves.”
Damian put the pieces together. “So you’re saying that if Jon and I are
together publicly, people might find out that I’m Robin.”
Clark nodded. “At best, yours and Bruce’s identities are compromised. At worst,
mine and Jon’s could be as well. And who knows how that chain reaction might
end.”
That hadn’t even occurred to Jon and Damian. They looked at each other, a
mutual understanding passing between them.
“So you’re saying that even though you guys all know about us now,” Jon
started.
“We still have to keep it a secret,” Damian concluded. Grief washed over the
pair of them as the reality of their situation set in.
“Sorry to be the bearers of bad news,” Clark said. “But...why didn’t you tell
us, Jon?”
Jon looked back at his parents, embarrassed. His cheeks flushed bright pink,
and he stammered over his words for a few seconds. “I asked him not to tell
anyone,” Damian interrupted, speaking up for him. “I didn’t want anyone to
know, and I asked him to keep it a secret. I’m sorry.”
“Secrets are a Wayne family tradition,” Clark half-joked. “Does your Father
know?”
Damian hesitated for a few moments, but nodded. “Only recently. And we told the
Titans yesterday, on Jon’s insistence.”
“I really did want to tell you,” Jon said. “But...”
“We understand,” his mom said. “But you don’t need to keep any more secrets
from us, okay?”
The boys nodded in unison, and then stared at each other.
Jon’s parents excused themselves, and Jon and Damian went upstairs to Jon’s
room to talk. They had a lot to discuss, and it wasn’t any kind of fun
conversation. It was stuff about their future, and how they would need to move
forward.
Jon closed the door behind them, and Damian groaned as he flopped onto Jon’s
bed.
“We finally told everyone,” he mumbled. “And now that every knows, nobody can
know. What kind of fucked karma is that?”
Jon sat on the bed next to Damian, his hand gripped at Damian’s thigh as he
sighed. “If they’d never caught us kissing as Robin and Superboy, it would be
okay for us to be in public as Damian and Jon. Now, we just need to do it the
other way around.”
“Great, so now people will freak out online about Robin and Superboy shacking
up,” Damian rolled his eyes. “The unspeakable things they’ll do with our action
figures.”
Jon’s face immediately flooded with disgust, and Damian laughed a little. Jon
shook his head like a wet dog, as if trying to remove the thoughts from his
head.
“We’ll be fine,” Jon insisted. “Before long I’ll graduate, and we can move in
together again. And even if we have to be...subtle as our real selves.”
Jon thought more about it, his eyes trailing off into the distance. Damian sat
up to meet his gaze, but now Jon wasn’t watching. “But now, we can’t go on
dates in public. No more dinners, no more movies...”
“I like your cooking better anyway,” Damian said. Jon peered over his shoulder
to watch Damian. “And we can watch movies at my place. Screw dates.”
Jon smiled, and the two leaned forward for a second to kiss. The door handle
opened and the two shot apart, eyes trained on the door. Lois appeared, leaning
inside slowly.
“Door stays open,” Lois half-teased, but Damian could also tell she was
serious.
“Are you serious?” Jon asked.
“You’re 17, Jon,” she said. “See you boys in a bit.”
She departed, leaving the door ajar. Jon rolled his eyes and lay back in bed,
hands folded across his stomach. “I can’t wait to move back in with you.”
“Me either,” Damian agreed. “We’ll probably need to get a bigger place when you
move back to Gotham.”
“Aww, tired of sharing a bed with me?” Jon teased.
“No,” Damian snorted. “If you’re moving in for real, we don’t have enough room
for all of our shit. And I want a better setup to keep all of our gear more
organized.”
“Maybe you should get a big mansion like your dad’s,” Jon teased. Damian
snorted and laid back in bed next to him, their shoulders touching and their
legs dangling off the side of the bed parallel to each other.
“As if. He has so much more space in there than he’ll ever need,” Damian joked.
“We’ll find something.”
Jon grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
Chapter End Notes
     Whew! So that's finally done haha. Them coming out, I mean, not the
     story.
     But in all honesty, I post this chapter with a bit of hesitation. As
     most of you who have been following this story for a while know, I
     have kept up with updates (to my surprise more than anyone else's)
     very faithfully. This chapter marks the first time I'm posting in
     which I don't have the next chapter already done, if not the next
     several chapters. I knew with my fast posting schedule that
     eventually it would catch up with me as my muse started to fade and
     writing slowed, but I was hoping all along that it wouldn't haha.
     I'm not sure how much longer this chapter is going to be. As of now,
     I don't have a big, climactic ending planned - no final battle or
     anything. I'd planned this story a lot more carefully up through the
     Scarecrow storyline, but it's been tougher since. I'm still going to
     try to stick to my posting schedule of Mondays and Thursdays, and I
     hope that I can. I just wanted to let you guys know the position I'm
     in so that, should my updates need to slow down a little, you all
     will be aware of it. I'll see you lovelies soon <3
***** Chapter 24 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Everything was finally ready.
Damian hated having company – it was invasive, and although his apartment was
rarely dirty, he felt an extra pressure to make sure that everything was
perfect. And his place was large, but he wasn’t sure there had ever been this
many people in this apartment.
There were plenty of people he’d invited to Jon’s 18th birthday party. The
Titans, of course, as well as Jon’s cousin Kara, otherwise known as Supergirl.
Damian knew of others who might like to come, but he wasn’t sure who else Jon
was really close with, and he didn’t want to send invites out to his own
friends that Jon knew nothing about.
Everything was set. Damian had at first toyed with the idea of a surprise
party, but with Jon’s x-ray vision and super hearing, they’d have never been
able to pull it off in the first place.
So although it was no secret, Jon would be the last to arrive. He had homework
to finish up anyway – Jon’s senior year was nearly over now. It had been months
since their debacle with the media, what with Robin being caught kissing the
“mysterious masked boy”. It had been insufferable for a while – the pictures,
the media coverage, so on and so forth. Once a mugger in Gotham even asked who
the boy was and Damian almost beat him to death.
But like all things, all that hype passed. Most everyone had come to realize
that it really was Superboy, as another rogue photographer had caught them
kissing on a rooftop, resulting in another media blitz on the two. Jon had been
spared of the first public fiesta, but he wouldn’t escape the second.
That one was still dying down, but mostly, people had simply stopped caring.
Damian tried not to think about that kind of stuff. He’d ensured that
everything for tonight be perfect – Damian didn’t want Jon to have to cook, and
it wasn’t like they could have the event catered when the room was going to be
fit to burst with superheroes. So Damian had settled and – somewhat
begrudgingly – ordered pizza. Surely the Teen Titans would have no complaints,
Beast Boy least of all, but Damian was hoping to feed Jon something a little
more special than pizza.
That sounded dirty, but it wasn’t what he meant. He wanted to treat Jon –
turning 18 was a big deal, and Damian wanted to make sure it was special.
But it didn’t matter – the pizza would be arriving any minute now, along with
the first of his guests. The Titans would likely all be arriving together, and
Supergirl would be on time unless something was going on in National City.
The doorbell rang. Damian had forgotten there even was a doorbell since nobody
ever visited, but he made his way over and opened the door. It was the pizza –
Damian took the giant stack of boxes from the man in exchange for a bundle of
cash, and kicked the door shut. He’d probably gone overboard on the pizza –
even with Supergirl coming along, that still only made nine people, so maybe 12
pizzas was a bit much. But Damian knew from experience that it was practically
a rule that anyone with superpowers had a huge appetite – maybe those special
powers burned extra calories or something? And even if it were only him, Damian
knew that Jon could put food away like no other.
God he loved that boy. He was fortunate for that superhuman metabolism.
Damian got all the pizzas laid out in stacks, separated by toppings. By the
time he’d set down the last stack of pizzas, the doorbell rang again. Damian
rushed over and peered through the peephole, seeing that the Titans were on the
other side. He went to unlock the door, but stopped himself just in time to
scramble towards his back pocket and grab his mask, sliding it on his face. He
checked it in the mirror, nodded, and then opened the door.
They all exchanged greetings as the entirety of the Teen Titans flooded into
Damian’s apartment. They oooh’d and ahhh’d at the place, heads on swivels as
they took in the luxurious apartment.
“Damn, you must be loaded,” Beast Boy mused.
“Tt,” Damian exclaimed. He wasn’t sure what else to say in response to that.
“When will Superboy be arriving?” Starfire asked.
“Soon. Supergirl should be here any minute, and then he should be here in the
next ten minutes or so,” Damian said. “So just...make yourselves comfortable.”
The group made their way past, and as they did, Damian took notice of Kid Flash
– or, rather, Wally.
“You’re not wearing your mask,” Damian noted. Wally looked at him, and rubbed a
hand over his closely shaved head.
“Yeah. Figured it was about time I stopped being so paranoid with you guys,”
Wally said. He went with the others to get comfortable.
And they did. Damian had a large sectional couch that filled up quickly with
all the new guests, and they all chatted and talked and laughed amongst
themselves. Usually Damian would join them, but he continued to fuss around the
kitchen until the doorbell rang again. He made his way over to the door and
after peering into the peephole, it seemed Supergirl had arrived. Or, rather,
Kara had arrived – she had her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and
glasses along with a button-up shirt and knee-length skirt. He’d never seen her
like this, but it was obvious who she was.
“Kara,” Damian greeted as he opened the door. She snorted a little.
“Nice mask,” she joked.
Damian said nothing, his mouth hardening into a line as he stepped aside and
gestured for her to enter. She smiled, and Damian knew she was kidding, but he
didn’t have much of a retort. Damian had already told her about his situation
with the Teen Titans, that they didn’t know who he really was.
“I could say the same of your glasses,” Damian said as she passed him. She
arched an eyebrow at him. “I’ve still never understood how you consider that a
disguise.”
“Hey, it gets the job done. And subtlety is key,” she smiled. She entered the
apartment and introduced herself to the team – she’d met most of them at some
point or another, but it never hurt to do so again. Once inside, she did go
ahead and remove the fake glasses since they knew who she actually was.
Well that made all the guests, leaving only Jon to arrive shortly. For once in
his life, he actually ran early, and only moments after Kara arrived, Damian
heard a key fiddling with the lock. Damian approached and just unlocked it, and
opened it.
Sure enough, Jon was standing there. He looked great – he’d really taken the
time to do his hair, and he wore dark jeans and a button up. Damian knew
realistically that his shirt should be buttoned just one higher, but said
nothing for entirely selfish reasons.
“Hello, birthday boy,” Damian greeted. Jon grinned, but said nothing – he
stepped forward and kissed Damian gently, the two of them standing in the
doorway to save a moment for themselves. They separated after another short
kiss, and Jon wrapped his hand around Damian’s. He led the pair of them into
the apartment.
“Hey everyone,” Jon greeted. Their eyes all trailed over and cheered in unison,
saying “hi” and “happy birthday” and all the rest. They crowded over from the
couch and took turns hugging Jon and making jokes. Beast Boy turned into a bird
and flew onto his shoulder for some reason.
With all the attention on Jon, Damian took that opportunity to move back over
towards the food and start setting out plates and everything. Damian had a cake
lying in wait inside the refrigerator which he intended to save for later,
after they’d all eaten.
The party began smoothly. Damian had music of Jon’s choice playing softly in
the background, and they all stood around and ate off paper plates and napkins,
drinking soda and laughing. Beast Boy had insisted that there be alcohol at an
18-year old’s birthday party, but Damian had to remind him that even he was
only 20 and couldn’t buy alcohol. Then he tried to bring it himself, and Damian
also shot him down for that.
Everything was going great, and then came a knock at the door. Not the doorbell
– a knock. Damian’s eyes scanned the room, but there were no heads unaccounted
for. If a stranger was here, this wasn’t good – Damian was wearing his mask and
the entirety of the Teen Titans were in here having a good time. Damian
approached the door and peered through the hole.
“Oh my God,” Damian groaned. He glanced back over his shoulders to see if
anyone was looking – it didn’t seem so, so he quickly opened the door to try
and slide out into the hallway. “What the hell are you three doing here?”
There stood Grayson, Drake, and Todd. They were all dressed nicely, but
noticeably mask-less. Damian was the only one among them concealing his
identity, and as he stepped into the hallway, he tore off his mask.
“We came for the party!” Jason exclaimed. “A little hurt you didn’t invite us.”
“Because this party is not for you, you idiots!” Damian said. “It’s for Jon!”
“Oh yeah, your boyfriend,” Drake teased. “So when were you gonna tell us?”
Damian froze. When it all came out (no pun intended) about Robin and Superboy,
logically he knew that Drake and Todd were going to find out at some point.
Grayson knew that something had happened, but he hadn’t exactly let all the
details loose for him.
“...sorry,” Damian said softly. He didn’t know exactly what he was apologizing
for – not telling them, or not inviting them to the party?
“It’s fine. But you do owe us,” Grayson said. “So...party time?”
“You don’t have masks,” Damian reminded them. “The team doesn’t know our secret
identities. They should stay that way.”
“The team knows me and Tim,” Grayson said. “Besides, you’ve been working with
them for years – shouldn’t you loosen up a little?”
“I don’t see why that is in any way—”
Jason rolled his eyes and reached past Damian. Before Damian could react, the
door flew open, and the four of them looked in on the party.
The group all looked towards the hallway and Damian immediately scrambled for
his mask, trying to get it back in place, but Grayson snatched it out of his
hands.
“You need to trust them, Damian,” Grayson insisted. Damian felt his heart race
a little, but they weren’t going to let this go – he nodded.
He turned to face his team – the only one of them who had seen his real face
was Jon, but the rest seemed shocked.
“Yooo...Robin’s not wearing his mask,” Garfield said. “Wait, who are they?”
“You know Tim and Dick,” Damian introduced them. “Red Robin and Nightwing. The
idiot is Jason.”
“Dick!” Starfire exclaimed. She flew across the room and into his arms, and the
two kissed briefly and smiled at each other. “It’s been too long.”
“It has. Hey, Kori,” he grinned.
“Whoaaa, wait that’s Nightwing and Red Robin?” Jaime asked. “Then who…?”
“Red Hood. Nice to meet you,” Todd greeted, nodding at the room.
“Whoa,” Garfield said. “Robin, you didn’t say they were coming.”
“You’re as surprised as I am,” Damian half-muttered. “And I guess Damian will
do for today.”
The party continued on, a little awkwardly for a short period. Introductions
were made as the room adjusted to the new presence as the Batfamily descended
upon them. Damian felt naked being around them without his mask, but Grayson
still hadn’t given it back. He stepped aside and poured himself some water,
sipping on it and looking into the group from a distance.
Though Grayson was occupied talking with Kori on the couch, Todd and Drake
busied themselves talking with Jon. From an outside perspective, it seemed like
more of an interrogation – the two were standing very close to him and intently
asking him question after question, though Damian couldn’t quite hear what they
were.
It suddenly clicked – Jon was why they were here. They were being creepers.
Damian set down his cup and crossed the room, quickly grabbing Todd and Drake
by a wrist and dragging them into his bedroom. He closed the door behind them
and turned to face the two.
“Why are you talking to Jon?” he asked.
“It’s the kid’s birthday! Who would we be to ignore him?” Todd said, hands up
like he was defending himself. Damian saw right through that act.
“Shame on us for being curious,” Drake half-teased. “Come on. The first person
you’ve ever dated, much less the first boy you’ve ever shown interest in. I
want to know what’s wrong with him.”
Todd smacked Drake’s shoulder, and the two just exchanged an amused glance.
Damian was boiling – they were here to interrogate Jon, to get into Damian’s
personal business. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much that Damian could
really do about it. And Jon was too nice to say anything about it, even though
they probably made him really uncomfortable.
Once the pair of them saw that Damian was defeated, they made their way back
out into the party. They steered clear of Jon for now – how long that would
last, Damian had no way of knowing. But he hoped it would be forever.
Damian made his way back out. For a moment he scrambled for his mask, then
again reminded himself that now the team knew his face, and it didn’t matter
anymore. It felt odd – now that he and Wally no longer hid their faces, one
might mistake this for a normal party. But, then again, Garfield was green, you
could still see Jaime’s scarab through his shirt, and Damian was almost
positive Jason had at least one gun on him, so that was kind of out of the
question.
Wally looked at Damian and smiled. “Weird, right? Letting them see you.”
“Very,” Damian admitted.
The two were silent for a few moment. Wally took a long sip from his drink.
“So, Bruce Wayne is Batman, huh?”
“What?”
“Come on,” Wally said. “I mean, I’ve suspected it for forever. Who else could
afford all those gadgets? Plus most billionaires aren’t that jacked for no
reason. And now you look, like, exactly like him.”
Damian didn’t know what to say. Of all the people he suspected to figure it out
first, it sure as hell wasn’t Wally.
“Your silence says it all, Damian Wayne,” Wally teased. “No worries, I’ll keep
it to myself.”
“Why thank you, Wally West,” Damian shot back. Wally seemed surprised that
Damian knew his last name, but only for a second – then he realized it was
stupid to think that Damian hadn’t always known.
Damian rejoined the party. He could see Drake’s patience waning, wanting to
speak more with Jon, but he’d been bombarded by the rest of the Titans,
catching up with everyone – they hadn’t seen much of him since he’d come back
from the dead, so they all wanted to talk to him. No, the real threat was Todd.
And he hadn’t waited long – while the others all busied themselves, enjoying
the party, Jon and Jason sat on the couch together, just talking. Damian
couldn’t hear what, but he crossed the room and took the seat on the other side
of Jon.
“What are you two talking about?” Damian asked innocently. As Jon turned to
look at his boyfriend, Damian caught Todd’s smug grin on the other side of his
head.
“We were just discussing how we first got together,” Jon said. “Jason is
awfully...curious.”
“What can I say? It must be Batman’s influence, that little detective in me,”
Jason said. “You should’ve seen Baby Bat here when he first became Robin. God,
he was adorable. A little shit, but still, adorable.”
“Do not,” Damian sneered. “Besides, Jon has known me the majority of the time
I’ve been Robin. So those kinds of stories can’t embarrass me if he was
present.”
The three were silent for a few moments, and then Jon’s eyes traveled back over
to Damian. “Baby Bat?” he asked.
“If you ever use that nickname with me, I’m leaving you,” Damian threatened.
Jon snorted, covering his mouth with one hand to try and keep himself from
laughing.
“You’ll hear that name again when you least want to, Damian,” teased Todd. The
pair of them looked over at Jason just to see him wiggling his eyebrows. Jon
snorted again and Damian could see him fighting back his laughs, but said
nothing further. If Jon ever used that name in bed, it would be the death of
him. Kryptonite or not, nothing would stop Damian then.
“I’m gonna go take a leak,” Jason announced, and stood from the couch to head
towards the bathroom. Damian peeked around – Grayson was nowhere to be seen,
and Drake appeared to be in the process of being dragged out onto the balcony.
It seemed, for the moment, that none of the offenders were within earshot.
“What have they been asking you about?” Damian asked. Jon seemed surprised by
the change in tone, but not by the question.
He smiled a little. “Nothing major. Just about us – how we got together, how it
was living together, stuff about me personally. It’s probably long overdue that
I meet them, anyway.”
Damian grumbled. “Nosy fuckers.”
“They’re nice,” Jon defended. “I mean, definitely crazy. Especially Jason –
he’s got a few screws loose.”
“That tends to happen when you get murdered by the Joker and brought back to
life,” Damian shrugged. Jon’s eyes widened, locked on Damian as if waiting for
the punchline. “What, you think your family is fucked up? Literally all four of
us have been dead at some point.”
“Holy shit.”
“Welcome to my world.”
The two sat and chatted for a while. Most of the team had gravitated outside
onto the patio, including Jason, who Damian was pretty sure went outside to hit
on Kara. He had no evidence of that – just a hunch.
“So, 18...” Damian mused. “Lots of big things at 18.”
“I’m finally an adult,” Jon teased. “I don’t feel any different, though.”
“It is, though. You can...vote. That’s a big one, I hear,” Damian said. “And
hey, you’re now a consenting adult for sex.”
“Yeah, like that’s stopped us,” Jon teased sarcastically.
“Hey we’ve never had sex sex,” Damian defended. “We’ve just – oh my God.”
Jon blinked. “What?”
Damian stood abruptly. “If Kori and Grayson are fucking on my bed, I’ll
slaughter them both.”
“They left,” Drake interrupted. He’d come back inside when Damian hadn’t been
paying attention – how much had he heard?
“Why?” Jon asked.
“Probably to hook up at Dick’s safe house here in Gotham,” Tim shrugged. “Those
two have an actual sex life, after all.”
Damian cringed at the thought of it. Then, as if trying to make things worse,
Jon spoke up. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? We have a sex life!”
“Suuuure,” he joked. He sipped on a cup of soda, eyebrows raised as he walked
over to grab a slice of pizza.
Jon leaned in close and whispered. “He heard us.”
“Goddammit.”
The two sat for a few moments. Damian peered over his shoulder out at the large
group. They gathered together, laughing, sipping from their cups. Wally looked
in from outside, peering at the two boys resting on the couch, and gestured for
them to come out and join them.
“We’re really lucky to have all these people,” Jon said. Damian looked over,
just seeing the side of Jon’s face – he looked out onto the group happily,
taking in each face one at a time. But Damian nodded, not wanting to say
anything further.
“Come on. Let’s go join the fun.”
Chapter End Notes
     Hey guys! So from here on, I've decided to slow down the posting
     speed until the end of the story to once a week. Frankly, there isn't
     a lot left of this story - I don't want it to go on forever just for
     the sake of continuing writing. Sometimes, stories should just come
     to an end instead of overstaying their welcome. I'm looking at you,
     Supernatural.
     Anyway, I've decided that I'm going to start posting one chapter per
     week on Wednesdays until the story is done. I'm not sure exactly how
     many more chapters that will be, but it won't be too long. I'd say
     three or four more chapters at the ABSOLUTE most, unless something
     strikes me that would extend the story in a way that is worth the
     additional work.
     Love you guys <3 see you on Wednesday!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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