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You're Perfect

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Damian sighed, resting his head back against the wall. The pads of his fingers rubbed circles against the textured paint and his body slowly sagged toward the wall. He was tired, bone tired, and he was also more than a little drunk.

Coming here hadn't been his idea and while he knew he should hate everything about this stupid club, he actually kind of liked it. At first he'd hated the people, the loudness, the sweaty bodies and the claustrophobic nightmare of the dance floor. But now, it was better. Four hours into the night and part of the crowd had moved on to other clubs, a different breed of patron moving in. Gone were the brightly colored outfits and the glow sticks and in had moved the sea of black clothing with occasional bright patches of red and purple. Stiletto heels had been replaced with boots that matched his preferred footwear and the screaming sea replaced with the slow roll of throbbing bass, too loud to speak over. It was like a blessed peace and Damian had fallen into it with abandon.

Whereas he'd started the night nursing a single glass of scotch, he'd moved on to through the pages of strangely named drinks taped along the bar. He'd taken particular delight in ordering a Redheaded Slut by having to lean over the bar and yell what he'd wanted at the bartender – a redhead, who had looked incredibly amused at Damian's order. He'd given her a ten as a tip for the genuine laughter in her eyes as she'd given him the drink and he'd downed it before getting all the way across the dance floor.

Now he stood in the air conditioned hallway, back to the wall, head ever so slightly spinning, and his constantly on senses turned dull. All his hard edges had fallen away and what remained was the emotionally stunted twenty-something he tried hard to hide. He gazed up at the black ceiling and the purple glow of the black lights and he imagined the feel of someone's lips against his own, the sensation of another body pressed tight to him and giving him all he craved. His thoughts meandered over whispered confessions and his hands craved to fist in the rough material of a dress shirt and pull while lips caressed his sensitive neck.

Here in the darkness, he imagined being out and proud and happy. He imagined someone that wasn't Grayson or Jon knowing he wasn't ever intending to marry or have children, he imagined understanding and love in the world's gazes as they looked at him. Right here, against this stupidly textured wall, he let himself dream of the ideal world where no one asked him when he'd start dating and no one talked about what cute little kids he'd have while they looked for all the world like they wanted to pinch his cheeks. He imagined a world where his grandfather hadn't made him as some kind of horrible vessel and his mother didn't want him for world domination. Instead, he let his thoughts supply him with her smile – the one he'd seen her give his father once – and his grandfather being a kindly, if somewhat strange old man, that other people seemed to have. He imagined not being rich and not being the center of Gotham's attention and his biggest worry being completely unfounded as he told his father he was gay and all he received was a quiet, "I know," and a huge hug and a smile.

Pushing away from the wall, Damian trailed his fingers along it as he walked back toward the dance floor, his thoughts carrying him away into a pleasant dream-version of his life. He imagined all the what-ifs of his favorite if Jason were gay scenario and thought of how good it might feel to drink down his kisses, pressed to the wall beneath his perfect body. He paused and nibbled at his own lower lip, feeling his cheeks flush as he let the thought sail away into the things he usually reserved only for an early morning session with his trusty left hand and a bottle of lube.

Shuddering, he paused at the exit to the hallway and flicked his gaze over the crowd until he found his rag-tag little group. Jon with his green armband stating he was eighteen, but not legal to drink. Colin with his red band that matched Damian's, signaling he was just as allowed as Damian was, though he rarely chose to drink on these outings from what Damian understood. Suren and Maya were leaning suspiciously close to one another, standing a few feet from the table and Damian felt his heart flutter at the sight.

He weaved his way back through the crowd to their little table and placed both palms on the table, blinking very slowly at all of them before loudly offering, "I think I need to leave."

Jon cocked his head at him and Damian felt like he was being assessed on a deeper level than just appearance. "I'll take him home and be right back." The others sent up a chorus of good nights and Damian waved as he trailed after Jon toward the exit. They stepped out into the night and Jon helped Damian around the corner before unceremoniously scooping him up and taking off.

Damian thanked everything in the world that he was used to this or his stomach would have revolted against it. As it was, it left him dizzy and by the time they landed, it took him a few seconds longer than it should have to register this wasn't the manor.

The glass sliding door pushed open and Damian blinked owlishly at Jason's half-rumpled figure darkening the doorway. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Damian swallowed, forcing his thoughts as much back on track with his usual self as he could and opened his mouth, prepared to state he didn't know at all why he was here. Instead, what came out was, "I'm drunk."

Jason huffed out a laugh and stood back, gesturing Damian inside with a quiet, "I'll take care of him, thank you."

The door slid shut, Jon on the other side of it, and Damian let himself be guided toward the kitchen with Jason's hand on his back. "Do you feel sick?" He shook his head and Jason grunted in acknowledgment, skirting around him once he had him standing at the counter. A cool bottle of water was pushed toward him with the quiet order of, "Drink," and then Jason was heading off down the hallway.

Damian cracked open the lid and took a few sips before settling it back on the counter. He slid his fingers through the rapidly forming condensation and let his thoughts drift over how nice it'd be if he were here for different reasons. If Jason had been at the club and he'd quietly admitted to liking him. If Jason had brought him home and started working on sobering him up so he could lay him out on his bed and –

A bottle of aspirin rattled against the counter as Jason set it down. "Take two now, thank me later."

Damian blinked at it and sighed, picking it up and unscrewing the lid after a few tries at the childproof – and apparently drunk-proof – seal. He tapped two out onto his palm and tossed them into his mouth, following it with water. He recapped the bottle and trailed after Jason toward the living room, water in hand.

They settled on the couch and Damian watched as Jason pushed the small trash can toward Damian with his foot. He made a face. Nothing in him felt ill, so he hoped Jason was just being cautious. The TV flickered on and Damian had to blink to focus before convincing himself what he was seeing was real. The frozen image of two men mid-coitus graced the screen and it took Jason a fumbling second to spit out a laugh and then a quiet, "Uh... right, sorry," before the image flickered away and the screen lit up with the menu for choosing shows instead. It was more than obvious that Jason had been watching a channel that Damian knew was subscription only, even if he scrolled away from it relatively quickly.

Despite the quickness of Jason's exit from everything, the image was burned into Damian's mind. An image that meant Jason had been watching gay porn. That meant Damian had a chance in hell.

Sitting forward, he tried and failed to regulate his excited breathing while he white-knuckled the couch cushions beneath him. He closed his eyes and for one wild moment, imagined the two men in that image replaced by him and Jason.

Jason's hand came to press against his back. "If you're going to be sick, I'd prefer it be in that trash can, just so we're clear."

Damian's eyes flew open and he stared at the TV, at the completely innocuous array of game show channels currently pulled up. His tongue flicked along his teeth and he opened his mouth to see what words would come out this time, his mind flying over the possibilities that had just opened up to him.

"I'm gay." He managed to bark out a laugh right after it. "I'm gay and I've been terrified to say it, but that was definitely gay porn up there and I guess I don't have to be scared anymore, do I?"

Jason's hand eased up, stopped pushing, but still remained on his back, a warm and reassuring presence. Damian wanted to lean toward him, curl up against his side and show Jason just how vulnerable he could be like this when he hadn't jerked his hand away at Damian's words. Just how much he wanted to be touched and cared for and loved.

"I don't think you need to be scared of it at all, though if what I was watching paved the path, well... good." Jason sounded slightly amused, though mostly serious and Damian imagined leaning back into his touch, trapping Jason's hand between him and the couch so he could never stop touching him. He imagined crawling into his lap and –

His face flushed and he shivered a little, forcibly cutting off his horny thoughts, particularly while sitting next to the main feature of such thoughts.

"I want to ask you things, but I really don't want you to say anything you'll regret when you're sober. So let's say, tomorrow, when you're a hell of a lot less drunk, I'd like you to open up to me."

Damian wet his lips, considered telling Jason he liked him, that he imagined him nearly every time he was alone and lonely and horny. He turned his gaze on Jason and let a small smile grace his lips before he pushed himself up off the couch moved to lean over Jason, more than a little aware what picture he painted like this: cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy, lips parted and plush. He watched Jason carefully, saw the flair of his nostrils and the way his pupils dilated just the slightest bit and he leaned in, pressing his mouth to Jason's, sighing into it.

For one blessed moment, Jason actually kissed him back, but then there was a hand on his chest, a gentle pressure that grew more insistent until it eventually parted them from one another. Jason's voice was a rumble that lit Damian's body on fire when he spoke.

"This needs to wait until tomorrow. You're drunk."

Damian's heart flared at the words and he shivered a little as he ducked his head, hiding away a very private sort of smile. "You're perfect."

"Far from it." Jason applied a bit more pressure until Damian took a few steps back and Jason pulled himself up off the couch, extracting Damian's water bottle from where he'd left it and handing it over. "Drink this and get some sleep. Spare room's all yours." His hand slid through Damian's hair, mussing the perfect spikes he'd placed it in before leaving home tonight. "I'll check on you to make sure you're okay. Make sure you fall asleep on your side tonight," he kicked the trash can lightly, "and take this with you."

With that Jason was gone, retreating down the hallway into his own bedroom and closing the door behind him and Damian was left staring after him, heart thumping wildly in his chest. For one moment, he debated going back to what Jason had been watching, muting it, and seeing what Jason had seen. Instead, he scrolled back to it and noted the title, moved the menu back to where it'd been and turned it off, grabbing the little trash bin and wandering off down the hall with it. Tomorrow he'd deal with his actions, tonight he'd be Googling porn on his phone and wishing like hell it was Jason with him.

Closing the bedroom door behind himself, he put the trash can by the bed and quietly stripped down to his underwear before crawling in bed and settling on his side, nursing his water bottle as he unlocked his phone and began to search for the title. He found a few pay sites and finally a couple clips for free. Opening them, he turned his volume all the way off and pushed his water bottle against his arm, shoving his hand into his boxer briefs and starting to stroke as he stared at the two men coupling on a couch that looked suspiciously like Jason's if he squinted the right way.

His hips rocked against his hand, heart thumping as he stared at the close-up of one man penetrating the other, watched the slick slide of their union. His strokes became more insistent, desperate as he ramped up far quicker than usual. It was with a quiet gasp that he yanked the elastic of his underwear down and spurted across the sheets as one guy lifted up off the other's cock and showed his hole to the camera.

Damian shuttered, wet his lips as he gave himself a few seconds to come down off his self-imposed high and then sighed, turning his phone off and shoving it on the dresser, taking some of the tissues Jason kept there and mopping up his mess. He used a little water from his bottle to scrub at it, hoping it wouldn't stain and make it obvious what he'd done here. Maybe it had been foolish not to shoot off in his shorts, but he also didn't have a spare pair with him and had no desire to sleep in soiled ones.

He polished off the water bottle and put it on the dresser, curling up and tugging the sheets up around his shoulders, snuggling into the pillow and wishing Jason were behind him. He closed his eyes and even with the intent to think about what was going on, he drifted off to sleep far more quickly than usual.

---

Damian woke to a bit of a headache, though nothing horrid. Nothing in him felt nauseous and for that he was grateful. He stretched and yawned and made a face at his breath. Pushing his way out from under the covers, he checked for anything untoward and found nothing, not even a stain from his previous night's activities. The thought brought back that he'd not only come out to Jason but straight-up kissed him without anything like preamble or reason. He pulled a face and murmured, "Ugh," under his breath, standing and snatching up his phone, shuffling to the door and stepping out into the hall.

He smelled coffee, which mean Jason was up and he sighed, retreating and gathering up his clothing before darting across the hall into the bathroom and closing the door. He flicked on the shower and stripped out of his underwear, letting the jumble fall on the tiles in front of the sink. His bladder made itself known and he tensed up, hurrying to step into the shower before he started to pee, a sigh of relief leaving him as he relieved himself across the porcelain, warm water beating down on him.

Bracing his arm against the wall, he sighed, getting impatient with his body, wondering if it was ever going to end and pushing harder to make it go faster. Finally, blessedly, he finished and turned around, grabbing Jason's body wash and quickly lathering some up between his hands, slicking it over his entire body. He scrubbed really well and then moved on to his hair, using a dime-sized amount of shampoo and conditioner at the same time, rinsing it out long before either bottle would have told him to and then stepping out, sheepishly snatching up Jason's towel, realizing he had no idea where new ones were.

He wiped down with it and pushed it into the hamper, quickly picking up his clothing, giving each item the sniff test before pulling it on. He left his underwear off, balled them up and wrapped his undershirt around it, both of them a little sour. Yanking on the rest of his clothing, he moved to the sink and used his finger and Jason's toothpaste to do his best with his teeth and tongue. He rinsed as well as he could and sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair and hoping it spiked up a little with no help.

Picking up his bundle, he stepped out of the steamy room and shuffled down the hallway back to the bedroom where he left his bundle on the end of the bed and moved his shoes to the foot of the bed next to it so he wouldn't forget. He patted his phone in his pocket and shuffled down the hall to see what yesterday's actions brought him today.

Jason sat at the counter, hunched over a worn paperback, hand curled around a cup of coffee. Behind him the pot was still half full and Damian noted the pastry box open beside it, knew Jason had to have gone and gotten it for him.

He stood there awkwardly for a long moment and then went around the counter, getting down a mug and filling the cup with the delicious smelling coffee. He selected a danish that looked to have cherry filling and came back around to lean on the counter across from Jason as he took a tentative bite of the pastry. It was really great and he polished it off in a few bites, sipping down some coffee behind it with a pleased sound.

Jason closed his book and Damian chanced looking up at him, fear of rejection suddenly flooding him and instantly all his defenses came up. Choking back all his fear, he made it into something harder, forced himself in the passivity of his normal life and he knew it was shutting down. Knew he was better at it than Bruce had ever been and in a way, that hurt, too. "Look... I was drunk. Let's say nothing happened and we just move on." His own words burned, lit a fiery swath inside him and he could see the gasping pain of his decisions in his own future, saw himself with his hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes red and his heart breaking a few hours down the line. But it wasn't him that mattered here. It was Jason and Jason had never asked for what Damian had done.

He heard Jason's heavy sigh as a faraway sort of thing, heard it like it was happening somewhere else and he stared down at the counter in front of him, picked up his mug and took too big of a drink, swallowed down the burning hot liquid as if it were nothing. Just like he needed to be nothing right then.

"So that's how we're going to play it? Just pretend like nothing happened at all last night, even after I asked you to open up to me?"

Damian closed his eyes, felt himself breaking, felt the image of his future self ratchet one step closer and he swallowed hard before answering. "You didn't ask for me to be drunk or in your home and you definitely didn't ask for me to invade your space and be a complete ass."

"Jesus, kid... maybe you could come back to Earth for me for half a second here. I told Jon to bring you here before you guys left last night if you turned up drunk. I wanted to spare you Bruce's judgement eyes when he has no ground to walk on with that shit anyway. That point aside, it isn't like it's somehow your fault I am apparently incapable of moving off of certain channels when I'm done with them." Jason made an annoyed sound. "I should be apologizing to you about that, but I can't bring myself to be angry if it got you to open up at all. You're worse than your father, just a complete shutdown on all things emotional if you're not basically forced into it." Jason turned away and poured himself another cup of coffee. "It's not healthy."

"Okay, so, what? I admit I'm gay and you admit you were watching gay porn and then we just... ignore that I decided to fucking kiss you?" Anger boiled up to cover the fear that rolled in Damian's gut and he glowered at Jason's back, knowing it wasn't fair to turn his anger here, but not knowing what else to do with it.

Jason turned around and leaned back beside the coffee maker, holding the cup like a shield between them. "Or you could stop being pissed off long enough to see past your own delusions. Yes, I was watching gay porn and no, it wasn't some kind of one-time thing. Yes, you came out to me because of it and yes, I'm perfectly okay with it. And yeah," Jason sighed, flicking his gaze up to the ceiling and Damian could feel his internal walls crumbling. "You kissed me and I wanted you to. That's what we should be talking about right now. Instead, you're slamming up all your walls and pushing me away so that, what? You can go be upset about it later? Spare me. Fuck, spare yourself, kid."

Damian bristled a little at being called 'kid,' but truthfully he was acting like it, so he sort of deserved it. He sighed, deflating slightly and staring down at the counter. "I don't know what to do. I crossed a line last night and that's not okay."

"You were drunk. What wouldn't have been okay would be if I had let things go further than they did. So shake off the self-blame."

Damian took the handle of his mug and slowly moved it around on the counter, watching the black liquid slosh around. "Would you have wanted more?"

Jason was quiet long enough Damian looked up, stared at him as Jason offered a quiet, "Yes."

Blinking at him, Damian felt his heart slamming in his chest, heard his breathing change and he had to press his free hand to the counter as hard as he could to stabilize himself.

"You're interested in me?"

Jason gave him a bemused expression and then rolled his eyes. "Slow on the uptake, aren't you?"

"Just say it." Damian hesitated and then murmured, "Please."

Jason put his cup down and rounded the counter, gripped Damian's arm and gently turned him around, pressing him back against the fake granite and leaning in to capture Damian's lips, guiding them in a languid kiss. When their lips parted, Jason remained close, his lips barely a whisper away as he murmured, "I want you. Hell, when you take the damn stick out of your ass, I like you." There was the barest hint of a laugh and then, "Actually I kind of like playing with you when you do have the stick up your ass."

Damian shuddered and moved his hands to fist in the material of Jason's shirt, found himself grateful it was a button-up and he arched toward Jason, slowly melding them together before he leaned in and captured Jason's lips, letting out a breathy sigh against them before he kissed him just how he'd always wanted to, his toes curling against the linoleum and his body lighting up with a fire that he knew would grow to be unstoppable before they'd ever part for air. His body relaxed and he yielded to the press of Jason against him and his mind stopped frantically searching for any misstep and focused on the truth of the air he was sharing and the taste of Jason beneath his tongue.

He remembered his words from last night and it was with a smile that he parted their kiss and cupped his hand against Jason's cheek, his words stronger than they'd been last night when he gave Jason his truth and let his lips form the words, "You're perfect."