Sorry for late update, it's tourist season here so of course work is driving me crazyyyy! I'm seeing all your comments and I'm super super happy everyone seems to be enjoying it so far! I hope I can continue meeting your expectations uwu

Two days had passed since Damian went missing. He was safe up in space- unbeknownst to his family, lounging around and healing his wounds. Jon was a little fussy over that. "Come on, Dami, you need to chill and relax! You can get back to investigating when you're healed better." And really, who was to argue with a super powered Kryptonian who had no qualms about killing someone.

Though, Damian never feared that Jon would ever do such a thing to him. He'd really have to step out of place in a big way for the other to even consider it. Getting to Jon, the more he realized the alien shared similar morals to Jason. "You know, you would get along with him, I think. You both do what you think is necessary."

"And you don't?"

"I did."

Jonathan kept a close eye on earth when they were up in space. His father and brother were busy with their own teams and workloads, his mother sent him messages every day- updating him on random trivial things, but at least she cared. He never blamed Clark for being a terrible father. He did what he thought was best. Bruce didn't have an excuse, Bruce had multiple goes at being a good parent and failed spectacularly every time. Jon was just... born a little different than any of the good natured Kryptonians they had encountered.

Though Damian seemed to disagree with his sentiments, relenting a bit when Jon told him stories of what it was like for little Jon. Eight years old and Jon already possessed incredible strength, it was rare for them to harness their powers at such an early age, which was something Clark hoped against. He had already noticed Jon's temper, his moods, the lack of empathy- combine that with powers that could cause a great deal of damage... Well, Jon wouldn't be able to go to a proper school anymore if that were the case.

So many times when Clark and Lois tried giving Jon chances to learn and grow, it eventually boiled over when the young Jon had broken his mother's arm. She had told him many times not to track mud into the house, so she grounded him, and Jon didn't like that. He grabbed his mother's arm- only intending to get her attention, but he was way too upset to properly control himself, and her arm snapped under his grip.

His icy blues widened in surprise, "ma... you're so fragile." Lois couldn't speak, her voice could only yell out for Clark. Connor came running down the stairs at fifteen and seeing his baby brother standing over their injured mother with a blank expression on his face caused the eldest to freak out.

Connor used too much strength when shoving Jon away from their mother he flew into the wall with a loud bang, cracks and the outline of his little body were left imprinted. Connor had called him a monster then. Telling him he shouldn't have been born if he came to the world to cause pain. Jon couldn't show any expression on his face, but inside... he felt a sharp pain. It was unrecognizable to him. He was strong, the strongest race in that galaxy right? Why was he feeling pain? He was impervious to everything except kryptonite.

It didn't take Clark long to fly home. It was a mess, his wife trying to assure Connor she's fine and it'll heal but she's clearly in pain. Connor was on the floor carefully icing the swelling with a bear shaped ice pack as he shook his head at her words. And Jon, he was still standing in that corner- not saying a word.

A wave of emotions washed over the superhero as he mentally tried to process what was going on and just what to do. After a hospital visit and a very long conversation with Bruce- they came to the agreement that Jon, for the safety of others and himself, must be raised where he can't hurt anybody ever again.

At least until now. In isolation, Jon faced many things within himself. What caused the anger inside, why he reacted the way he did, why was he so different from all the other Kryptonians? And he realized that the world just was not meant for him. He didn't care about anything, anyone, or even himself. If getting attached to people made him feel pain then why should he care?

But that all changed after meeting Damian. Something happened that didn't happen before... and that was feeling a warmth in his chest, in his blood. Sometimes it felt like he was on fire, but it wasn't the same harrowing pain he felt that day with his family... it was something else. Something addicting.

Jon wasn't stupid, he spent years alone, he was a teenaged boy that had unlimited access to media like tv, movies, books, etc- he knew it was definitely something to do with hormones and post-puberty stuff. Still, he kind of expected to brush it all off.

Unfortunately, he just couldn't do that. Damian made it increasingly difficult to not care about him. Damian himself barely acknowledged the... off things about Jon when he really should. Jon wasn't stupid and Damian definitely wasn't stupid so they were both in the know of red flags- but he guessed Dami's favorite color must be red for that reason.

Damian never asked questions too deep unless Jon brought it up first, yet he also didn't mind Jon asking him some of the tougher and darker questions. Those two days were spent with the bronzed boy lying on the bed as pasty Jon hovered close by and fired question after question.

Talking was sometimes more painful than the rib and throat damage, especially with the throat damage. Opening about your deepest traumas whilst you choked and forced out words was kind of the worst. Jon didn't even have tea, though he was "kind" enough to do Damian a favor and swing down to earth somewhere to swipe it. Damian figured it must have been stolen, but he was too tired to care.

No tea was ever as good as Alfred's, but it would do. Jon often asked if there was anything that Dami would like. He promised him he'd deliver any request to him, eyes as eerie and determined as ever. Even when Damian told him no, the alien would still find himself asking.

Jon asked a lot these days. Asked if Damian wanted anything. Asked if Damian was okay. Asked if Damian would stay there forever. Though that last question stayed in his head.

The first night Damian fell asleep in the same room as Jon had the alien up all night. He just couldn't relax. Even when trying to just focus on Dami's heartbeat to calm down, it would backfire and he'd feel himself get energetic- ruining the whole cycle.

He'd float over the other's sleeping form, he could tell that the ex-assassin was a light sleeper, so Jon couldn't do anything to cause a disturbance. Hovering as he held his breath, admiring those long eyelashes that twitched with every dream and the parted lips where soft breaths indicated a good sleep. Simply, he found Damian to be gorgeous. Which was strange, as Jonathan never really thought about beauty in others.

Yes he could acknowledge attractive advantages some may have over others, yet he himself never felt the tug of infatuation, at least not until that fateful day where Robin scolded him and called him weird.

Which was, perhaps, why Jon was immediately obsessed with the other. Who wouldn't be? After spending sixteen years of your life feeling hollow and cold you'd latch onto the first thing that sparked.

Damian wasn't faring much better in the feelings department. Neither of them would say a word about it either. Love was weak, that was what his mother and grandfather and everyone at the league told him. Love was to be used as a weapon, lure others and use it to your advantage. Yet, the teen didn't feel like doing that with Jon. Something about the antisocial alien truly made him feel connected with another person. They didn't compare traumas, only comforting where they appeared in triggers.

Jon was comforting in the ways he was eerie. His dedication to keeping an eye and ear on him made the human feel protected- like he didn't always have to watch his own back for other assassins or if an enemy snuck up on him (though if that were to happen he'd throw a fit about it later). It seemed that the alien couldn't entirely control his strength, or maybe he could but he enjoyed leaving traces of himself behind on Dami. It started with the bruise on his wrist, to the thumbprint on his face, but now he had little marks all over.

From Jon getting past him to get something from the kitchen so he'd grab his elbow to move him a bit, to Jon casually reaching over to pinch at him. Damian didn't find it painful. Pain was... something of a comfort to him, unfortunately. It was better that Jon was the one distributing that pain instead of Damian jumping headfirst into a fight and getting himself hurt because he was being reckless.

Though, it was on the third day that Damian nudged Jon with his foot. The two of them were sitting on the couch, the shorter boy scrolling through his phone and reading on a website that started with an A, and Jon was pressed up beside him- eyes glued to the large screen in front of them.

"Hm?" Jon hummed, stuffing his mouth with an oatmeal cookie that he had swiped from his mother. Of course, she knew her son came by every so often- but she wasn't a snitch. She left out a few homemade goods on the windowsill for her boy to 'steal'.

"I should be getting home soon," Damian pointed out, his scrolling coming to a stop as he lazily rolled his eyes to look at Jon- who seemed to have deflated, "are you pouting?" Damian sounded amused.

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Not. Anyways, why would you need to go back?" Jon asked him, setting the canister of cookies off to the side to look back at the green eyed beau.

Damian shrugged his shoulders, "well for one thing- my brother would absolutely have a stroke if he knew I was hanging out in space for god knows how long, and eventually your dad or brother is going to pay you a visit and you can't exactly hide me from him. Once he knows, my father will know, and then he'd try to hunt you down with his armory of kryptonite."

Jon's eyebrows furrowed, "but why. I've been helping you."

"He'll piece it together that you were the one who burnt the body and also the one who left the bruise on my arm," Then Dami motioned vaguely to the rest of himself, "amongst others."

That got a snort out of the alien, "so?"

"So, if you capture the suspicion or dislike of Batman you'll regret it," Damian further explained.

Jon stared blankly, "I still don't get why it matters."

"Oh for heaven's sake- if you get on my father's bad side you won't get to freely spend time with me anymore. He'd make it impossible for you to," Damian scowled, pointing a finger at him.

That got his attention and Jon's mouth turned into a frown, seemingly sulking over the thought, "fine. I'll take you home," he grumbled, exhaling through his nose as he leant back into the couch.

Damian chuckled, leaning over and gently pinching Jon's cheek, "good boy," he praised with a sweet tone to his voice- but his eyes? They were full of danger. Emeralds gleaming with mischief- Jon's mouth went dry, mind blank, and yet- Dami pulled away as if he had done nothing once again.

The alien huffed through his nose, but he chuckled, "sure," he said, standing up from his spot on the couch. He held out a hand to the shorter boy, desperate to feel that skin against his once more, "your chariot awaits."

Sorry for uneventful chapter, been busy but also needed to add on to their bonding time...