#damian 💀 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puppiesandnightlock · 3 months ago

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READ ON AO3: I will fall in love with you over and over again

for this year’s secret Santa, I got @spicy-apple-pie :D

prompt was domestic damijon on a homestead, bonus if there was porch swing cuddles. I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE!! HAPPY HOLIDAYSSSSSSSSSS

The moon was sinking lower outside, still just enough to shine through the slit in the curtains. Out in the barn, the rooster began to crow, causing Damian to stir.

He blinked a few times, mouth opening in a silent yawn. His husband was curled up on his chest, a direct opposite to how they’d fallen asleep the previous night. The clock on their bedside table told him that it was 5 in the morning on a Saturday, just around the time that a weekday would start. He struggled with attempting to sit up, only to have Jon’s hand tighten around the sheets.

He was under no impression that the other man hadn’t heard their natural alarm, chuckling a bit as he ran his hand through messy raven curls, sticking up one side with bed-head. Neither wished to leave the little cocoon of comfort and warmth they’d created for the morning sky, but duty called.

“Jonathan.” Damian said softly, voice a bit rough with sleep. “I’ve got to see to the chores.”

“Noooo.” Jon buried his face into the firm stomach beneath him. “Stay. Just for a few more minutes. The chores can wait a few more minutes.”

“The cows-”

“Are on a tight schedule and get milked at exactly six fifteen every morning, you would run outside barefoot in your pajamas to keep it that way. It’s the weekend, we can sleep just a bit longer.”

Damian needed little persuasion, still half asleep and easily lured by the promise of warmth and someone he loved. Still.

“Things need to be done,” he protested weakly, beginning to lie back down. Jon made a noncommittal humming noise as Damian’s hand began to run gently up and down his spine.

“And they’ll still be there in another thirty minutes.”

Jon scooted up to have his face next to his husband’s, bringing a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. They smiled at each other softly before he destroyed the silence with a cheeky, “I win.”

“Shut up, Hayseed.” The other man grumbled, turning over and tugging the covers up to his shoulders. Jon wiggled under them, setting his chin on his shoulder and arms around his waist in a spooning position.

They drifted off for a bit longer until the light of the moon had gone. The clock hit 5:45 and this time, the both of them got up, stretching and ambling to the restroom.

Jon’s phone played an upbeat morning playlist as they brushed their teeth in tandem, just another part of the daily routine. About ten minutes later, the both of them left the house, exchanging a chaste morning kiss before heading off to their respective chores, an elderly Titus lifting his head from where his bed was and a younger puppy trotting at Damian’s heels.

Damian opened the door to the barn, gently greeting the animals and leading the cows to the proper station, starting the order.

Jon was out in the fields, doing a quick overview of the place and checking the irrigation. Once he’d gone through that, he stopped by the barn to heft the bag of chicken feed over his shoulder and pet their two horses' noses on the way out. The cows had just finished, Damian leading them out to pasture.

The sun rays spiked in the sky, chasing the dark of the night as the two young men worked to kick-start their morning. The chickens waddled out of the coop, ambling towards the feed scattered on the ground. Jon smiled, crouching into their home and plucking the eggs with deft fingers.

Damian passed him with a smile, crouching to greet some of the chickens and the rooster before going to the barn and checking the food bowl of the barn cats, all three of which were curled up in the hayloft.

The horses nickered as he approached them, filling their troughs and checking the water levels. They’d be let out after breakfast into the fields, but for now, they were content to be pet and spoken to lovingly.

A basket full of eggs on his arm, Jon leaned over to the side, making note of the sign of newly sprouting weeds in the smaller garden. They’d be weeding after eating, he supposed.

Damian stepped into the house just as Jon had begun to fill the dogs’ food bowl. The younger pup raced towards the bowl, beating out Titus, who preferred to come closer to Damian to be scratched.

“Aseema,” Damian clicked, calling her to his feet. She bounced back from the food bowl, sitting impatiently on the floor in front of him. She’d been the most recent addition to their ever growing farm family, chosen from a litter their neighbors had recently had. He praised her for waiting, releasing both dogs to eat.

Jon had begun to put the eggs away for the next day’s farmer’s market, Damian joining him in the kitchen to wash his hands and begin breakfast for the two of them.

He’d begun the coffee, the morning meal scent filling the air and aiding the homey atmosphere. He came around Damian’s other side, hugging him from behind and swaying them both in a rhythm that had his husband laughing quietly, leaning back and looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“What are you doing, ya amar?”

“Dancing, duh.”

Jon turned him around to face him, tugging Damian’s arms around his neck and moving them both around the kitchen. He rolled his eyes fondly, stating, “This is not dancing.”

“Shhh, take your training and shove it, this is my dancing in my kitchen.”

“We share this house.”

“Stop being logical, you’re interrupting the magic.”

He muffled his laughter into Jon’s shoulder, letting him move them around the tile floor until both their stomachs reminded them that breakfast was a very much needed meal of the day, prompting them to detach themselves from each other and begin dishing out the food. They ate quickly on the island in their kitchen, cleaning up the mess and setting out to begin a new list.

“We’ve got to weed later today,” Jon mentioned as they walked out, heading for the barn. Damian nodded, adding it to the list. There wasn’t much they had to do, both grateful for an opportunity for a lazy Saturday. They led the horses out into the pasture, checking up on the cows before heading back.

The garden tools were carried to the little patch of earth, Damian kneeling in the dirt to begin. Jon passed him the needed tools, getting his own and beginning himself.

It hadn’t been more than a few minutes when Damian looked over and remarked teasingly, “One would think Superboy would have already had more weeds out than I do.”

Jon scoffed playfully, wiping his cheek with his hand. It only served to smear more dirt on it, his husband noted with affection. “Everything doesn’t have to be a competition, darlin’.”

“Maybe not,” Damian hummed, grinning at the way Jon sped up in an attempt to clear his side of the garden first anyways.

They worked quicker, glancing over at each other, throwing jeers and checking to see how far each was falling behind.

“Didn’t you say it wasn’t a competition, habibi?”

“This is your fault.” Jon accused, pointing the root of one of the offending plants his way. “You knew this would happen.”

“I do know what makes you tick.” Damian’s brow quirked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see where I was pushing towards.”

“I didn’t think I’d fall for it,” He grumbled, throwing the weed at him. Damian felt the incoming projectile, dodging it but getting dirt on his clothing. He made a face and lunged, throwing one at Jon’s back in return.

Jon squawked as he felt the impact, arms flailing. He turned, armed, and suddenly dirt and weeds were flying in the air, laughter and screeches echoing around the fields.

“I still won,” Damian claimed as they were picking up the fallen weeds. “I had more.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Jon rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “We’re filthy, by the way.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Damian brushed off the edge of his shirt. They were both covered in dirt and sweat, more than usual due to the deliberateness of the previous actions.

“Arguably, yours.” His husband gathered the plants and zipped out, dumping them in the proper bin and returning to see Damian scowling at him. It was always rather fun to be the cause of that expression when it was about something unserious as this.

“Mine? Try again, Corncob, I wasn’t the one who shot the first bullet.”

“You started the competition and you egged me on. In a chain of events, you tipped the domino. Rippled the water. Started the butterfly effect.”

Damian opened his mouth to protest, Jon stopping him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You can keep going and stay covered in dirt and standing in the sun that’s only going to get hotter, or hurry up and finish so you can shower.”

“…Tt.” He turned on his heel, calling out the few things he was going to do. Jon nodded, turning the other direction to do the things that could be done with a little bit of help from his kryptonian heritage.

By the time he arrived back into the house, the barely afternoon sun had risen high, bringing a gentle warmth just enough to contrast the still cool breeze of the morning.

There was a folded blanket on the kitchen counter and Jon figured if he checked the fridge, there would be a basket filled with lunch. He sped up the stairs as the faucet squeaked, shutting off the sounds of the shower. His husband emerged a few minutes later, toweling his hair off and having exchanged his work clothes for casual wear.

“In,” Damian poked him playfully. Jon swatted at him, but kissed his cheek as he passed.

“I’m going, I’m going,”

By the time he was done, Damian was waiting with the basket and blanket under one arm, offering his other hand to Jon, who took it immediately.

He swung their hands between the two as they walked up towards the hill overlooking the pasture, just on the edge of their property. Aseema scampered ahead, Titus ambling behind her until he found a spot where he wanted to sleep. Jon spread the blanket under the shade, Damian handing him food and sitting down. It was a rather quiet moment, just silence speaking volumes between the two as they watched what they’d made of life flourish, from the grazing animals to the growing crops, all from a distance.

After the food was eaten and everything packed away accordingly, Damian pulled out his sketchbook, listening to Jon ramble to him about anything and everything. He’d listen to his voice forever, if he could. His hand moved of its own volition, pencil outlining the features of the person next to him in a movement so familiar he wondered if he could draw him with his eyes closed.

“D?” Jon had stopped, looking at him with a lopsided smile. Damian looked up, blinking at him. “Why did you stop? You were making an excellent point.”

“I thought maybe you had gotten bored.”

He tsked, managing to look almost offended. “Jonathan, it’s much too late for these thoughts now. I married you for all of you, and you know very well that if I didn’t want to hear you speak, I’d find some way to shut you up.”

(I love you, I love hearing you talk because it’s a part of you. Don’t feel bad.)

“I know, Dames. “ Jon leaned back, putting his head into Damian’s lap. “Don’t mind me, just my brain being stupid.”

“Tt, tell it to knock it off. Only I can be mean to you.” The tone was fond, the hand holding onto his sketchbook falling to tug affectionately at raven curls.

“Yes, sir,” he joked in return, shutting his eyes as Damian’s hand left his hair and returned to his artwork.

The shade began to get longer, the sun dipping down from its afternoon high. With a sigh, both men got up, Jon dashing to drop off the things from their afternoon in the house while Damian made his way to the pasture. The both of them began to bring in the cows and horses, leading them to their stalls.

Their livestock were cared for and fed accordingly, the both of them bidding them good night, for as the evening settled in, they would not return. The dogs followed behind them both obediently as Jon and Damian began to close up their home for the night.

Stars hadn’t yet appeared when they arrived home, the sun barely beginning to set. The food was heated, warming in the stove as the two settled into their evening, quiet and peaceful as they hung around the kitchen. As Damian walked past to check on the food, Jon moved forwards, spinning Damian around to face him and picking him up, arms around his waist.

“Dami,” He sing-songed, twirling them around a few times cheerfully.

“Jon.” Damian looked down at him, hands holding onto his shoulders and despite himself, lips twitching upwards in amusement.

“Let’s eat dinner on the swing, please?” He whined, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

“You’re a child.” Damian remarked dryly. “I married a child.”

“That’s a yes, right?”

“Put me down and I’ll consider it.”

As his feet touched the ground, he launched a plate at his husband, Jon yelping and catching it. “Damian!”

“You caught it.” He smirked, filling his plate with dinner. Jon made a rumbly noise, hip checking him playfully as he moved to get his own dinner. Titus was snoozing on the porch with Aseema tucked into his side when they got out, the sun nearly gone.

Jon sat, arm stretched over the back of the swing and plate on his lap. Damian leaned back onto his arm, the both of them quietly watching the stars taken over the midwestern sky.

Once the food was gone and plates stacked on the floor, he leaned into him, head falling onto his shoulder and legs curled behind him. Jon’s feet rocked the swing in a soothing rhythm, the soft squeaking blending in with the quiet song of the night.

“I love you,” Damian mumbled, eyes half closed as he rested against his husband.

Jon’s free arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer. “I love you, too.”

“Tell me about the stars,” he requested, feeling a gentle kiss land in his hair. Jon’s voice, soft now, carried through the night as they held each other, the world nothing but the two of them.

Tomorrow will be another day, a new set of challenges and smiles and laughter, each finding new ways to love each other more and more.

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