Notes: Despite the name of the book, this book has nothing to do with drugs or getting stoned at a beach. It is merely just me pouring my Damijon fantasies onto a computer. Nothing special. Also, there is a lot of break-up related, sad couple things in this book. If you don't like, don't read. If you do, I hope you enjoy. Finishing off my note, for the Part One thing on the cover, there is two more parts to be written. I'm not sure how many chapters are going to be in this first book, so bear with me. Jessica the author. How original.
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"WE'RE DONE! IT'S OVER, KENT!" Damian shouted, tears threatening to fall out of his eyes. Jon stood in the middle of a trashed room, eyes not focusing on Damian. "We. are. OVER! I can't believe I ever loved you! Hell, I probably wouldn't have if you-"
"Just leave." Jon whispered. In his hands, he clutched a framed photograph. "go."
"-you cheating BITCH-" Damian's eyes widened, filling with hurt. Jon gripped the frame tighter, feeling the glass crack under his touch. "Go to hell-"
SMACK.
Red began to sprout on Damian's tan cheek. "Get out."
Damian slowly reached a hand up to his cheek, glaring at Jon, who was out of breath, panting. His face was red, eyes bloodshot behind his glasses. Damian stood there in shock, for once that afternoon, quiet. His hand was still holding onto his cheek. This... this wasn't Jon.
"Get. The. FUCK. Out." Jon growled. Damian blinked, frowning.
"Fine then. This is goodbye then, Kent." And with that, he walked out of Jon's apartment, throat tightening. The tears from earlier returned, now flooding. No. He wasn't going to cry. He can't. He won't. He was stronger than this...
Stronger... yet... plop.
Damian perked up at feeling off something wet on the collar of his shirt. He hesitantly brought a hand up to his face... something cool rolled down one of his fingers. He was...
Crying.
And he couldn't stop. He didn't cry. He can't cry. He won't. He wants to. He did. He is... Damian backed up onto the door of Jon's apartment, sliding down. Sitting on the floor. His hands wiped at his face, hiding his incoming sobs. It hurt. It was painful.
Seeing Jon like that. It wasn't painful physically, but mentally. Emotionally. But that wasn't his Jon. His love. His Beloved. That wasn't the bubbly air-headed nerd. That was... his fault. His fault.
Tears continued to fall as the piercing feeling in his chest stabbed deeper into his heart.
And for some reason...
Crying helped. It helped. It helped Damian Wayne, one who never cried, feel more dead and empty than before. Emptying out his emotions, emptying out his bitterness, replacing it with nothing. Leaving it as it is.
And that hurt.
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Jon sat at the opposite side of the door, head throbbing, heart throbbing, body throbbing. The picture he was holding earlier was hurled at the wall, shattered to pieces. All that remained was the shards of glass and the broken frame on top of an old picture.
He ran his hands through his hair, moving down underneath his glasses, rubbing at his tired eyes. Stubble from last night grew fast on the half-Kryptonian, making his young face look ten years older.
"I fucked up... I FUCKED shit up..." Jon threw his head back, slamming it against the door. He didn't recoil or groan in pain. It didn't hurt compared to how his heart was feeling right now. He and Damian just broke up.
Damian just broke up with him, over some drunken mistake Jon did.
And by... Jon's fist landed in the wall next to him, breaking through. "Shit!" Jon cursed. He ripped his hand back out, ready to punch another hole in his wall when his super-hearing captured something from outside his door.
Sniffle...
What... he pressed his ear against the door this time, fully taking in what he heard. Was Damian... was his Beloved... crying...
Damian never cried.
The fact that he knew damn well that he made his own boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, now cry...
It hurt.
-
"Hey Damian! How was the thing with Jon-" Dick started. Damian threw a pocketed bat-a-rang at him, just barely missing Dick's face. Some strands of Dick's long hair (Again, going with my favorite Dick Grayson design: Mullet Grayson, but without the mullet) fluttered to the floor.
"Don't mention his name," Damian hissed. Dick's eyes widened at the state of his baby brother. Puffy eyes, not-so dry tear tracks down his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot and his usual good posture was a full out slump. Something had gone wrong, and Dick wasn't having it.
"Okay then." he answered, watching as Damian grabbed Alfred the Cat off the couch, stomped up the stairs and slammed the door to his room as loud as he could. Ah. Yeah. Something was up. And Dick needed answers.
"What's up with him?" Tim walked into the room, blowing on his new cup of fresh coffee. Dick sighed, removing the bat-a-rang that latched itself onto the wall.
"Something went wrong with him and Jon... I think I know what might have happened. Do you think Kon can ask Jon what happened? They are... half-brothers. I'm curious. Damian's never acted like this in the past."
"Sure. I guess." Tim shifted the laptop in his arms to his left, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his endless contact until he came upon Kon's, labelled: Konnie ❤. The phone rang for about fifteen seconds until Kon finally answered.
"Hey Timmy. What's the problem, babe?"
"Don't call me that now! My annoying older brother is in the room," Tim glared at Dick who merely ignored it, crossing his arms. "I need you to talk to Jon about something."
"About what? I'm flying over Central City right now. I can get there in about... fifteen minutes. What's up with him? Did he and Dames do something?"
"I think that's what this is about. Dick wanted me to call you so you could talk to him about the brat-" Dick grabbed the phone from Tim, putting it to his ear.
"Hey Kon. This is Dick. Damian just came home and he wasn't looking himself. I think Jon and him might have... broken up. Or fought. I don't know. I want you to ask Jon what happened."
"Sure... is that it?"
"Yes. Thanks. Bye." Dick handed Tim his phone back, exhaling sharply.
"Thanks, Dick," Tim sneered, taking back his phone, exiting the living room. Dick once again ignored his younger brother, running a hand through his loose hair. Okay. Damian was either high on something, had an allergic reaction, or Jon did something and was about to get Kryptonite shoved up his ass.
Needless to say, that fluorescent green crystal of sorts might never see the light of day again, if Jon did something. But first - Dick needed to know what was up.
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(I will be introducing my oc in this fic, so whooo! She'll only be in the first... three or four chapters - the rest will be centered on Damijon. Just an FYI.)
"You did what?!" Ashe growled. Jon had his palms covering his tired face, awaiting death. He'd gone to Damian's adoptive sister to tell her what he'd done and she'd thrown her half-eaten salmon bagel at his face.
"It was an accident! I had zero intention to cheat on Damian!"
"So breaking my brother's heart was an 'accident?'" she reached over the table, grabbing her salmon bagel from off Jon's plate, taking a large bite from it. The onion that was in it was already to sting Jon's eyes - Ashe threw it so hard at his face, he could've sworn he nearly blacked out.
"Yes...?" Ashe frowned.
"Okay listen - you're one of my best friends - but goddaYUM. I don't want to have to choose my brother or you. What you did. What you fucked up? Things like that take time to heal. May take over a thousand. And you two were so cute together. I want you two to make up. No matter what it takes. Because I. Am. Not. About. To watch my two best friends break over something as dumb as this. Talk to him."
"Like that's going to happen. Damian wants nothing to do with me."
"Mhm..." Ashe got up, placing her pay on the table. "Well then. I'll talk to you later. I got shopping to do with Nova."
"Yeah... thanks Ashe. I guess."
"No prob. But let me remind you again," she grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close so their faces were about seven inches away from each other. Jon's cerulean eyes looked into Ashe's mismatched ones. The grey and blue both dropped to a sinister coldness in her eyes.
"You hurt him again, I will personally grab you by your neck, and shove you down a shower drain. And I don't want to clean that up. Also, shave your stubble. You look like a meth-addicted frat boy - nerd."
"Right." Ashe gave him a pat on his shoulder, walking away from the outdoor cafe table with her iced tea in hand.
"Wow... threatened by Ashe, huh? Rare, but scary. So's your stubble. Gross." Jon turned around to see his half-brother, Kon standing there, sunglasses on, leather jacket on and a smug look on his face. He sighed, using his foot to push Ashe's now empty seat out. Kon took it, slinging his arm around the back.
"What exactly happened? Timmy called, says Dick wants answers."
"I messed things up with Damian. I fucked something up, he hates me, I ruined... everything." Jon confessed, pushing away his forgotten sandwich. Kon took it, flipping through the layers. Ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mustard, mayo.
"How so? Inquiring minds want to know," Kon took a bite off the opposite end of the sandwich.
"Where do I start?" Jon brushed a hand under his eyes, rubbing at the corners of his eyes.
(You'll see what happened in Book 2. Sorry, not really sorry.)
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(Also, I recently got obsessed with using plus signs for my little 'break thingies' so uwu)
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"Damian? Damian? Can I come in?" Dick opened the door to Damian's room.
"You're already opening the door, so you might as well. I know you won't leave me alone after this." Damian's voice sounded hoarse. From what Dick could see, Damian laid on his bed, dressed in a hoodie that most definitely his and oversized pants - that probably weren't his as well. It was obvious who they belonged to - Jon.
"Hey Damian..." Dick gently shut the door behind him, locking it. Knowing this household, barging into rooms wasn't something unusual. They didn't care if you were in the bathroom taking a shit - barging in. Having some 'naughty' time? Don't care.
But Damian needed this time to himself.
Dick, wanting to respect Damian's personal space, pulled out his rolling desk chair, sitting down on it. "Mind... telling me what happened?"
"No." Damian shifted on his bed, turning the opposite way from his older brother. Dick pursed his lips. He got up, walking over to Damian's bed. Sitting at the edge, he sat, awaiting Damian's confession.
If it took the rest of the afternoon and night for him to speak up, so be it.
As the eldest, (;)) Dick couldn't just watch his younger siblings act... so depressed. It was something that just... he couldn't ignore it. After the death of Jason, he found that instead of Bruce comforting him, it was him trying to comfort Bruce. That was probably the thing that sparked this... desire to care. Talk to his siblings. Act like their parent. Like an older sibling.
"You don't need or have to tell me. I'm just here if you need someone to talk to. I'll be here as long as you want me to be."
A small grunt could be heard from Damian. He shifted his head, exposing his tear-streaked cheeks and still, crying eyes. The once powerful looking emerald eyes were now dull orbs of sadness.
"He... cheated. We're... we b-broke up..." he faintly whispered.
Dick's gut feeling was right.
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That's it for the first chapter! 2035 words! Not the most I've ever written, but the most written for the first chapter! For all those tearing out their hearts - put them back in.
The first three chapters focus on depressed Damian and Jon - the rest is going to be them getting back together and shit. Prepare for more Lana Del Rey songs!
For the second book, like I said, it will be like the first part of this? Like what specifically happened. Might not be as long, depends on if my lazy ass decides to actually update shit for once.
That's it..... for now. Jessica the author. How original. Hope you enjoyed this so far! Next chapter to be posted by... around October 1st at the latest. Stay tuned? Whoop-whoop!