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ghostybat · 2 days ago

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Omg I'm begging you to write the Bed Chem thing the previous anon asked 🙏(bless you previous anon) I'm going feral over here, you would write it so well 🙏😭

No for real, bless that anon, cus thinking about that au while listening to bed chem has me screaming 😭

But you 🫵 personally have so much more confidence in me than I do in myself. Like I believe my writing is subpar, it's okay at best there's so many other writers that could do this au so much better than I can and I think that they should go ahead and do it I would eat it up in a heartbeat! They most likely understand the characters better than I do too 🥲.

But! Because you believe in me more than I believe in myself I went ahead and wrote the longest thing I've ever written so far. I used so much brain power. Took me two whole days just to end up with 19 minutes of reading material writing is hard 🥲

So here you go! For you anon!

Bed Chem

“How much longer until this thing is over?”

Stephanie checked her phone, seeing that it was only 9 PM, and let out a soft groan. “Four more hours…” She had a look of utter boredom on her face.

“Great.” Damian sighed, taking a sip from his third champagne glass of the night. Damian wouldn't call himself a drinker, but these galas tended to be a little easier and go by faster with some alcohol in one's system. He had his first glass an hour into the event, his second two hours after his first, and now his third. He made sure to drink plenty of water in between—he wanted to feel lighter, not drunk.

Stephanie was sitting at one of the many tables while Damian leaned his weight against a pillar next to her.

The gala had been for some charity event—it always was, and of course everyone had to attend despite their lack of enthusiasm.

Damian and Stephanie decided to retreat to a quiet corner as they watched Bruce mingle with his many business peers, Tim getting interviewed for the fourth time that night already, Jason and Cassandra sticking by the dessert table playing judge, seeing which dessert was the best, and Dick himself was on his fifth drink talking and mingling among the rich, with Barbara at his side already deciding that he had had enough for the night.

“So,” Stephanie started, “how many interviews have you done so far?”

Damian took one more sip of his glass before putting it down. “Three, and I hope it stays that way.”

It was relatively normal for the Wayne kids themselves to get interviewed at these events. They get asked about their opinions and current ventures. Damian had already been asked multiple times about his art gallery that had been open for a month and if he had plans for any new pieces to be added. And as much as he loved talking about his art, it did get tedious having to answer the same questions over and over again. He would never understand how his father and Tim did it.

About another hour in, Damian had taken a seat next to Stephanie, watching her play some absurd mobile game on her phone when he decided to scan the crowd one more time, and his eyes landed on someone who looked to be a bit out of their element.

From what Damian could see, the man was tall, somewhere between his father's and Jason's height. He looked broad, though it could be the suit he was wearing giving that illusion. Damian hoped for the latter. His hair was curly, and despite the large frames on his face, it was easy to tell that he was handsome. All that being said, the man looked rather flustered despite the friendly smile on his face.

Damian was interested. Which was a rarity in itself.

Damian hardly ever found himself being physically attracted to people, good-looking or not. So, on the rare occasion that he did find himself physically drawn to someone, it just so happened to be a random, what seemed to be an overly friendly reporter trying his best.

Damian supposed that he simply found it cute watching the man get a hold of his bearings in what seemed to be a new environment for him.

He'd, of course, never say any of this out loud, though.

“Who's that?” Damian asked, pointing his chin in the direction of the curly-haired man who was now interviewing some socialite about who-knows-what.

Steph looked up from her phone, following the direction of Damian's eyes. “Oh him? That's… Jonathan… Kent!” Her voice raised as she remembered the name. “He interviewed me earlier, asking about my recent performance with the Gotham Orchestra.” Stephanie had gotten into a prestigious music college through her piano skills, landing her a job with said orchestra. “He's new, I think? New here anyway.” And she was right; neither she nor Damian had ever seen him before, and they tended to remember which reporters were regulars at these types of events.

“Why are you asking, by the way? Do you like him?” Stephanie gave a playful grin, turning her attention back to the younger man.

“Please, I just learned his name.”

“So you can be attracted to someone and just know their name.”

“Hm.”

Oh, and in that moment, Stephanie knew exactly how she was going to spend the rest of this night. Because despite how hard Damian tried to hide it, she could tell he was interested in the good-looking stranger; he wouldn't be asking questions otherwise.

“He has an accent, you know,” she scooted herself closer to Damian. “It's southern… or at least I think it is… I actually don't know if I'm being honest with you.” And she really didn't; all she knew was that there was definitely a twang in the other man's voice when he interviewed her. “All southern accents sound the same to me, but it’s definitely country!”

Damian continued to eye the man, watching him try his best to get one interview after another.

‘An accent…’ he thought.

‘I'd like to hear it…’

And Damian decided that was enough motivation for him to get up from his seat, take one last sip from his glass, and make his way toward said reporter. “I'm gonna go talk to him.”

Stephanie watched as Damian straightened his clothes and made his way across the room to where a flustered reporter stood. She took that as her opportunity to stand up herself and make her way to the dessert table where Jason and Cassandra had pretty much planted themselves for the night.

“Guys! Look…” As she got closer to Jason and Cass, she made a spot for herself right between them and focused their gaze onto Damian.

“Damian's gonna talk to that new reporter,” she said, grinning.

Jason and Cass, who had been enjoying their time eating the different desserts and getting out of interviews—with Cass simply giving one-worded responses and Jason just flat-out refusing—followed Stephanie's line of sight to where Damian was, in fact… talking to a reporter… willingly.

“Damian doesn't talk to reporters unless he has to. What's his goal here?” Jason watched, confused more than curious.

Stephanie rolled her eyes.

“He's going to flirt.”

Great, Jason was even more confused now.

“Damian flirts?”

“Sometimes. He knows how.”

“Why, though?”

And Stephanie groaned because it really should be obvious.

“'Cause the reporter's a good-looking guy, and it's better than sitting around at this stupid gala being bored!”

Jason supposed that made sense.

“Fair. Guess we can see if he gets shot down or not.” He chuckled at the possibility.

“Oh please,” Stephanie snickered. “Damian's not gonna get shot down; he has the charm of his dad and the looks of his mom—he could have everyone in this room wrapped around his finger if he wanted to.”

And that was true; Damian's looks alone could command a room. The soft and delicate features he had inherited from his mother were a sharp contrast to his already somewhat standoffish personality. It made Damian the perfect mix of pretty and mysterious. In fact, most of the time, he didn't have to go out of his way to charm people at all, but there were occasions where Damian knew exactly how to use that Wayne charm to his advantage.

Whether this was one of those times, however, was hard to tell.

As Damian made his way through the crowd, it quickly became clear just how tall this reporter was the closer he got. He was definitely around his own father's height—6'2” if Damian had to be exact. He easily towered over Damian's 5'8”.

Damian stopped himself right behind the reporter. He could tell he was fiddling with something.

His badge?

Notes?

It wasn't relevant.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh!? I'm so sorry!” There was a quick nervous turn around before Damian was finally able to be face-to-face with this reporter, and the moment he was, Damian took everything in all at once.

“I didn't see you there—”

Oh, there is definitely a twang.

“Damian. Damian Wayne.”

Damian held his hand out for the other to shake, and the moment he did, Damian took immediate notice of how big his hands were compared to his own.

“And you're Kent, right? Jonathan?” Damian said with feigned ignorance, as if he hadn't just heard the name moments ago from Stephanie.

Jon let out a deep breath immediately—embarrassingly. Half out of nervousness and half because the instant he had taken Damian Wayne's hand into his, he noticed just how small they felt, how soft they felt.

Jon, of course, knew about Damian Wayne; he knew about all of them. Who didn't? He also heard that they were a relatively attractive family, blood-related or not. Damian, however, seemed to be a different case. He had only ever seen Damian through videos and pictures, but being able to actually stand in front of him, it was so easy to tell that Damian Wayne was far more beautiful in person.

Jon took immediate notice of Damian's soft and delicate features, long lashes around beautiful green eyes, and slight, lithe frame with what seemed to be an average height of 5'7”? 5'8”, maybe.

He couldn't help but notice these things. It was hard not to, especially when he was a journalist!

‘These things mattered’—is what he told himself.

“You've always been a sucker for a pretty face.” The words of his mom echoed in his head. And she wasn't wrong. She hardly ever was.

So excuse him if he was a bit distracted.

So Jon composed himself, stood tall, gave Damian a genuine smile, and shook his hand before letting it go.

“Yes, Jonathan Kent, Daily Planet.”

Oh,

And how he was handsome.

Almost stupidly so, and the glasses Jon wore did nothing to hide that, much less the blue eyes and freckles that were behind them.

'Blue... Such a nice color,' Damian thought. And it wasn't like he hadn't seen blue eyes before; his father and most of his adopted brothers had them.

But on this man.

On Jonathan Kent.

They were stunning.

~~~

“The Daily Planet?” Damian questioned.

“I believe my father owns that, doesn't he?”

Jon nods and smiles, taking a sip from the plastic water bottle he had been fiddling with earlier. He couldn't seem to get the cap to close right.

“Yeah, he does.”

Damian decides that he likes Jonathan's smile.

“And how are you liking the event so far? It's your first time at a Wayne Gala, isn't it?” Damian stares up at Jon with curious eyes.

At this, Jon's smile widens a little more. ‘Damian Wayne's cute…’ he thinks.

“It's been lovely so far; you Waynes really know how to throw a party.” Jon chuckled, the slight hint of his twang coming through.

Damian couldn't help but wonder where it was from.

Couldn't help but wonder how his name would sound with it.

“It's definitely a lot more than I'm used to… If it wasn't obvious enough… Was it obvious enough?” Jon worries.

This whole event had been a really big deal for him, his biggest event so far since he started working at The Daily Planet with his parents. He was both excited and nervous, and so far, he had only gotten a handful of interviews that actually mattered.

But the night was still young, and just as luck would have it, a Wayne approached him.

“Well, if I'm being completely honest, you'd stand out whether you were nervous or not.”

“So it was obvious.” Jon sighed.

Damian shrugged. “Like I said, you'd stand out either way. I mean, your suit alone for starters is what... a rental?” He snickered.

Jon rolled his eyes. “My dad's. Men's Wearhouse, I think.”

“Well...” Damian took the opportunity to eye Jon from head to toe. “I still think you look rather handsome, Mr. Kent, if that helps ease any nerves.”

And surprisingly, it did.

Jon also took quick notice that he didn't mind being called Mr. Kent if it was said in the same smooth way Damian said it.

(He wondered if that was on purpose.)

“Hm.” Jon hummed.

And Jon grinned. Just a little, because Damian Wayne had just called him handsome.

“It does, actually. I mean, getting called handsome by someone as pretty as you, Mr. Wayne, is sure to boost anybody's confidence.” And then Jon beamed.

A genuine, sweet, charming smile on his face, the kind of smile a child would have when playing with friends or getting a hug from their mom.

“Thank you, Damian.”

Damian's breath hitched a little at that.

Especially after hearing his name said with that accent he was desperately trying to place in his head.

He wasn't used to receiving a smile like that from someone who wasn't Dick, or Stephanie, or his mother and father. He was so used to the grins and smirks he'd get from people around him simply because he looked nice; he knew how to handle those.

But a smile like this from someone he genuinely found attractive was so different.

Damian thought that if this was Jon's way of flirting, then it was cruel.

“Metropolis is where you're from then, I assume? Considering where you work,” Damian said while taking the opportunity to carefully move himself closer into Jon's space.

Not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough of an invitation to be friendly.

Jon didn't notice, though, not right away, because what he did notice instead was the light flush that appeared on Damian's face after Jon thanked him for calling him handsome.

‘Really cute…’ Jon thought.

“Yeah, Metropolis is where I live and work,” he stated.

“Then where exactly is your accent from, if you don't mind me asking?”

“Oh! I grew up on a farm in Kansas, actually."

Damian slightly perked at the word “farm.”

Jon took notice.

It wasn't a secret that the youngest of the Waynes was an outspoken animal lover; Jon actually found this fact to be rather endearing when it came to Damian.

He had read countless articles about the proclaimed Prince of Gotham (Jon did his homework) and how, despite his many talents and beauty, he was written as the most aloof and unapproachable out of all his brothers.

It made Jon wonder if he was ever lonely.

So finding out that the small prince had a soft spot for animals gave Jon peace of mind that they at least had one thing in common.

“My family moved to Metropolis when I turned 10, so that's where the accent comes from.”

A farm, Damian thought.

A farm boy from Kansas.

A farm boy with pretty blue eyes and freckles he wanted to trace.

“I like it, Mr. Kent, your accent,” Damian said.

“I especially like it when you say my name with it.”

Damian spoke that last sentence with a rather alluring tone, causing one Jonathan Kent to go a bit hot in the face at the realization that Damian Wayne—

The supposedly most unapproachable Wayne—

Had most likely been flirting with him this whole time.

Jon couldn't help but let out a little bit of a laugh.

“What is it?” Damian asked with a bit of confusion. Maybe even a hit of annoyance.

“Nothing,” he composed himself with a smile still on his face.

Jon then leaned forward enough so that Damian was the only one that could hear him.

“I honestly just never expected you to be a flirt, Mr. Wayne. I'm flattered.”

The pride that immediately washed over Jon as he watched the soft flush of pink grow on Damian's cheeks was enough to make his entire night.

And as much as he was flattered, and as much as he should have noticed what with the way Damian had been looking at him with big green eyes and standing so close, calling him handsome, Jon was here on a job.

“Well, Mr. Wayne,” Jon decided now was as good a time as ever. “Since I have you here in front of me, do you think I could ask you a couple of questions myself?”

~~~

The two had made their way to an unoccupied table mainly so they weren't in the way of other guests but also for a sense of privacy.

Jon sat himself across from Damian, pulling out what looked to be a notepad and setting his phone flat on the table, ready to record.

Damian, in the meantime, had decided he wanted to remove the blazer he had been wearing for most of the evening.

And so underneath said blazer revealed that he had been wearing a sleeveless cheongsam top, showing off lithe and toned arms.

Jon didn't think it was possible to look erotic while taking off a blazer. Yet there Damian was, sitting across from him, proving his point wrong.

‘Red looks good on him…’ Jon thought.

The top was red.

Jon needed to focus.

Almost in an instant, Damian noticed the shift in demeanor. What was once a nervous and slightly flustered Jon was now someone who had confidence and understanding in what he was doing. He sat with his back straighter and with a more intense look.

Damian couldn't help but also find this attractive.

“So, Mr. Wayne, I've heard you're opening up an animal sanctuary,” Jon looked at his notes, most likely reviewing pre-written questions. “An exotic animal sanctuary, to be exact, and you're even going back to school to get a zoology degree. Now, it's pretty well known that, among many, you are quite the animal lover; you're even a vegetarian, and you've already had such a successful career as an artist, even recently opening up your very own gallery. I imagine it must be a bit nerve-wracking to move on from something you've known most of your life to proceed with something new.”

And that is what did it.

Because if Damian wasn't attracted to Jon before, he was certainly attracted to Jon now.

Something about that whole question—if one could even call it a question—seemed so genuine that, bizarrely, it was enough for Damian to want to sleep with this man. Forget the fact that Damian had already found Jonathan Kent to be undeniably handsome; this, in itself, just added a whole other layer to it.

Immediately, Damian acted on that primal feeling.

“You know, Mr. Kent…” Damian moved from his seat across from Jon to the one right next to him in a lithe and smooth motion.

Jon noticed it immediately, the way Damian moved his body in a graceful, fluid, almost sensual way just to get closer to him. “You're the very first person to ask me about that tonight,” Damian said in a low, soft tone.

“Really?” Jon swallowed.

He was so close to him.

Damian was so close to him, looking up at him through long dark lashes and gorgeous green eyes.

Green might just become Jon's favorite color tonight.

“Mhm,” Damian hummed, flickering his eyes from looking into Jon's to down at his lips and then back to his eyes again.

Goddammit.

Jon was here for a job.

Jon was here to interview people.

Jon was not here to be given bedroom eyes from Bruce Wayne's youngest son in the middle of an open gala.

“You've always been a sucker for a pretty face.”

And by God, had his mom always been right. Because when Jon sat down and thought about it, the absurdity of it, the fact that someone like Damian Wayne was giving him the time of day.

How could he not flirt back?

In fact, Jon could flirt.

Jon could easily flirt and do his job at the same time.

He took a breath, adjusted his glasses.

“Well, if that's the case…”

Jon leaned in close enough for only Damian to hear.

Close enough for Damian to feel the light brush of Jon's lips near his ear.

“I'm glad that I'm the first. Especially seeing as it gives me the privilege of being this close to you tonight.”

Then Jon pulled back.

Pulled back to take off the jacket of his dad's borrowed suit.

Pulled back to roll up the sleeves of the white button-up he was wearing underneath.

And Damian stared.